The House of Grey- Volume 3 (12 page)

A dream
,
thought Monson sarcastically, as his memories from the bridge, the information revealed about that fateful day, and the image of his unscarred sadistic self swirled together. So many unanswered questions
-
so much unknown.  He felt pangs of fear in his gut. He instinctively glanced at his cut and bruised knuckles. He thought of a teary-eyed Cyann as he tried to push it all aside, attempting to zero back in on the conversation. When he did, he found that everyone was staring at him.

“Sorry,” said Monson shaking his head. “Just ignore me.”

Molly narrowed her eyes at him. He hated it when she did that. She had this annoying habit of closely observing him in an attempt to ascertain his mood or feelings. If he did not voluntarily explain his behavior, she would cross-examine him in a way that would make Perry Mason jealous. Monson waited for her verdict.

“What happened to your knuckles?”

Molly’s voice sounded both angry and gentle at the same time. A voice that was a confusing torrent of emotions. He did not know how to explain it.

“I wouldn’t bother.” Casey shot Monson a sour look “Grey has this incredible ability to avoid questions. He’ll probably say he cut himself shaving or something.”

Monson matched Casey’s expression. “I didn’t avoid your question; you didn’t even ask about my hand.”

“I sure noticed that you tried to hide it.”

“You can’t prove that.”

“Isn’t that statement proof enough?”

“Monson honey…I’m getting some very surprising vibes. How…how much do they know?”

There it was. She had asked it.

Monson’s gaze turned downward. He was not sure how much more he could take; the nightmares, the memories, the revelations; it was all mounting painfully. Now? Now he had to try to explain to Molly why he had not…why he could not….

He mentally blanked. All he could do was shake his head.

“They don’t know anything?” asked Molly seriously.

He again responded in a thoroughly non-verbal way.

“Monson!” Her hands started to tremble, a clear sign she was upset. “You haven’t told them anything about
-
”

“He’s told us some stuff,” said Artorius, his voice growing so loud it drowned out Molly’s. “And we’ve been able to figure out some of the other things, and now we even know about Baroty Bri
-
”

“Baroty Bridge!?!” Molly’s voice cracked. She glanced at Monson. “What do they know about Baroty Bridge? We don’t even know about Baroty Bridge, unless
-
”

Monson recognized the glint in her eye. “It’s not like that, Molly. Gossip Guy just had a special on Baroty Bridge; some security camera footage recently surfaced and now
-
”

“Monson dear, stop right there.”

Everything, literally everything, stopped there. Molly’s bearing changed dramatically, as if something was boiling just beneath the surface. Something destructive. She proceeded. “What do you mean, Gossip Guy came out with a special report
-
what camera footage?”

The boys did not have a chance to answer before Molly plunged her hand into her pocket, pulling out a glinting silver data phone.

“You aren’t going to be able to find the story,” said Casey. “It’s on the platinum section of Gossip Guy’s member section. You have to be a Coren University student to gain access to it.”

Molly swore loudly and pushed herself out of her chair. “OK Cassius, I want you to show me.”

He was already moving towards the study, but turned to Artorius and Monson. “You coming?”

“Yeah, I want to finish watching the video.” Artorius rose as Molly and Casey disappeared into the study. He lingered by his chair.

“Grey, you coming?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Artorius was perplexed. “But your grandfather is on that video, Grey.”

“I know, Arthur. I know.”

“I… see.” Artorius walked away reluctantly.

Monson knew he was simply not ready to find out any more about Baroty Bridge. He was already scared. It was all too much, too fast. He was not able; he was not ready.  He found the silence of the now-vacant room unbearable. Sure, the muted sounds of Derek’s sermon permeated the dead space, but there seemed to be a disconnect between the study and the sitting room, like they were worlds apart. He could not stand it any longer. He stood and went to his room, closing the doors behind him. 

***

“Monson honey, can I come in?” Molly did not wait for his reply. She opened the doors slowly to find him on the window seat wrapped in a fleece blanket. He had a large leather-bound volume open on his lap, a discourse on the conspiracy theories surrounding Baroty Bridge. The subdued tap of windblown rain splattered against the large window. It had lulled him into a state of zen. He smiled gently as she walked towards him.

“Whatcha readin’?” She took a seat next to him.

He simply showed her the book in response.

“Ahh, any good?”

“No, not really. Well, there is that plan for assassinating the President that I’ve been carefully cultivating for the last four years. It’s not a very good plan, I must admit. I have no idea if the President is allergic to cheese.”

Molly’s jaw dropped as she feigned disbelief.  “That was a low blow! Why would you wish such ill will on my boyfriend?”

“Molly, he’s married.”

“A mere technicality,” said Molly, waving the concern aside.

His chortle ran deep. It made him feel a bit better.  “The idea of you being the First Lady is a very scary one.”

“I’m not sure that was a compliment.”

“Neither am I.”

There was silence, then laughter
-
lots of it.

“Ahh, Monson dear, I’ve missed you.” Molly lightly wiped at the corners of her eyes. “So tell me, how is everything?”

His brain kicked into overdrive. How was everything? Everything was…weird and scary, but…good at the same time. So where did he start?

“Everything’s OK, classes are fine. They aren’t as hard as I thought they were going to
-
”

“Well you’ve always been smart.”

“The teachers are great, especially Mr. Gatt and Coach Hawke. Even Ms. Blake is pretty cool, though she is a bit of a strange
-
she’s a little out there.”
“Drama major?”

He shrugged. “Casey seems to think so.”

“There’s one in every school.”

“Beyond that, I’ve just been hanging out with Artorius and Casey
-
”

Monson stopped talking abruptly; he realized Casey and Artorius were gone.

Molly spoke softly. “I sent them back to their rooms. They said they would pick you up for class tomorrow.”

“I see.” He averted his gaze.

Molly shifted closer to him. “I saw the video.”

“Of course.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Is that a trick question?” He attempted his usual level of sarcasm, but found the effect wanting. He sighed inwardly. He was just so tired. “I do have one thing I would like to ask you.”

“What’s that, sweetie?”

He sat up a litter straighter. “Baroty Bridge. Do you know why...why Grandfather and I were there that day?”

He stared at her face. It seemed like it…fell, ever so slightly. “You asked me that once before.”

He cocked his eyebrow. She grinned as she studied his face. She reached out, placing her hands on his cheeks, and held his face gently.

“It’s true.” She lifted her right hand and with her pointer finger, pushed down his eyebrow. “It was shortly after you woke up.”

He started to answer, but Molly threw him off when she stroked the corner of his cheeks, right below his eye.

“You know, I think your scars are fading a bit.”

He reached up and pulled at her hand. “I don’t remember asking you about Grandfather or Baroty Bridge.”

She exhaled deeply. “No, I don’t suppose you do. There was a lot going on at the time and you were a little out of it.”

“Did you answer my question?”

Her smile suddenly became sardonic. “No, I didn’t.”

“Will you answer it now?”

She hesitated, but answered with a nod of her head.

She motioned for him to come to her, laying a pillow in her lap. Her smile lit up the room, shining its brilliance all over him. He felt its warmth as he settled himself in. 

“So, let me get this straight.”

Monson almost jumped Casey. The latter was standing right in the middle the morning breakfast crowd on pathway leading to The GM from The Barracks borderline screaming his exclamation.

“Casey, don’t yell. I’m right here.” Seeing Monson’s uneasiness, Casey adjusted his tone.

“So let me get this straight: Your grandfather was the original founder of The Baroty Conglomerate?”

Monson nodded his head.

“But he left for some unknown reason.  He left one of the most successful businesses in, like, history, became a hermit, and then adopted you.”

Monson nodded again. “According to Molly…”

“And then if that wasn’t weird enough, after all that, he stayed in a shack of a house, out in Washington’s Columbia Basin, for like ten years.”

“Yes.”

“Then all of a sudden, he comes out of hiding and decides to head over to the opening ceremony for Baroty Bridge because….”

Monson answered the question. “That’s the part we’re unsure of. Molly said that he wouldn’t tell her. Said the less she knew the better.”

Casey exhaled, letting his shoulders sag as he did so. “Man, that is some heavy stuff. Talk about addling the brain.”

“Tell me about it.” Monson shot a glance at Artorius, who had yet to say anything and had been absent-mindedly playing with his phone all morning. Artorius did not look up, but rather grunted in agreement.

“Molly said that Grandfather went to the bridge that day because he was worried about something
-
he thought something bad was going to happen.”

“He told her this?”

“According to Molly, yes.”

“You don’t think he knew was what going to go down, do you?”

“That’s certainly what Derek thinks, isn’t it?”

Casey paused at Monson’s jarring reply. Even Artorius shifted his attention away from his phone. They both appeared nervous.  Casey spoke, his next words laced with uncertainty.

“So, you saw the end of the video?”

“You mean the part where Derek basically says that my grandfather was in cahoots with bad guys, knew exactly what was going to happen, and wired the bridge to blow just for the hell of it?” Monson shook his head. “No, Molly told me about it.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” said Casey in a reassuring sort of way. “Derek is an idiot. It’s not like that moron knows what he’s talking about.”

“All the evidence is totally circumstantial,” remarked Artorius. “Witness accounts of your grandfather stopping cars with the touch of a hand, telling children and leaders to stay back
-
to me, all that sounds like he was trying to keep people out of harm’s way. Assuming any of that is true, of course. How can you stop a car with just a hand? Well, I suppose a mini EMP would do it, but who has one of those? Do they even exist? ”

“Who knows,” agreed Monson ignoring the fact that he had no idea what an EMP was. “But regardless, it still means that Derek’s right. Grandfather seemed to know what was going to happen that day and wouldn’t that knowledge imply that he’s somehow involved?”

His friends did not have an answer for that one.

Monson took advantage of the silence, suddenly blurting out, “I don’t remember most of my life before about five months ago.”

Monson almost vomited then and there. He had actually said it. He did not even intend to; it just sort of came out.

“Yeah, that sounded a lot better in my head.”

It was as if everyone in the world, all six billion of them, had suddenly observed a moment of silence.

Casey recovered first. “Grey, what did you say?”

“I said that I don’t remember much of my life before I woke up in the hospital.”

Monson steeled himself.

Artorius started to reply, “Grey, you
-
”

“Hold on, Arthur. Just wait a second or I will never get through this.”

It
was
now or never.

“I don’t remember how I got into this school, why I wanted to come here in the first place, or much about Baroty Bridge. I’m tormented in my sleep by disturbing images of…of I don’t even know
what
they are, and as for my reason for not telling you?  Well, I really don’t have a real reason. Maybe I was scared. Being my friend comes with a lot of baggage and maybe I thought that you guys would blow me off if you knew. I couldn’t stand the thought of that. I’ve been able to reach some semblance of normal because of you two. I am very thankful; I hope you know that. Regardless, yesterday’s events made me realize how unfair I’m being to you and how I’ve been lying to myself. So this is me being unafraid of what might happen. I hope you will accept my apology for waiting so long.”

The oppressive silence returned as he quickly turned away from his two friends. He seemed to be developing a knack for random dramatic monologues. Maybe he really should consider taking it on the road.

He shook his head.

Stop making jokes!
he screamed at himself.
So not the time.

He glanced downward and found to his surprise that he was rubbing his knuckles. They were already starting to scab over. He thought of Cyann.

Stupid girl…

Casey’s voice disturbed Monson’s concentration. He spoke to Artorius.

“Great speech. I give it an eight. He needs to work on his delivery just a bit. More dramatic pauses would have pushed him over the top. Do you feel the sudden inclination to clap?”

“Do I ever. You know, I think there might be something to this lecture circuit idea of yours, Case. Grey is good.”

“Guys!”

They both laughed, moving at the same time to each place a hand on Monson’s shoulders. They leaned in close. Casey whispered.

“Thanks for the heads-up Grey, but
-
”

Artorius finished the thought.

“We already knew.”

Monson’s scrutiny shifted from face to face. “What do you mean you already knew?”

“Come on,” answered Casey slightly indignant. “We aren’t totally stupid. Besides
-
”

Again, Artorius finished the thought. “We were listening to your conversation with Cyann, remember?”

“How is that relevant? I didn’t tell her about my memory loss.”

“Context, dude. It wasn’t that hard to put together.”

Monson did not know whether to be really pissed off or incredibly relieved.

Casey finished up. “You’re stuck with us, Grey.  If you think a dramatic past is going to sway us, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“Yeah, if drama was an issue I would have kicked Casey to the curb a long time ago.”

Casey punched Artorius on the arm.

“Dude. You shouldn’t hit, Uncool.”

“Monson Grey! What on earth did you do to my sister?”

The voice of Indigo Harrison floated
around them as suddenly she appeared behind the three boys.

“Indigo!” bellowed Casey, sounding startled. “Don’t do that. Ya gonna give a guy a heart attack.”

Monson laughed at the Jersey accent. “Hey that was really good.”

“Oh, thank you, I’ve been working on
-
”

“You know, that’s one of the things that really annoys me about you three.”

Baffled, Casey stopped talking and turned to look at Indigo. Monson and Artorius followed suit. Their identical expressions all asked, “What’d we do?”

“I came all the way over here to talk to you about something important and you end up ignoring me,” said Indigo angrily. “But when my sister
-
”

“Wait Indigo,” interrupted Monson. He pointed at the entrance of The GM. “What’s going on there?”

Crowds of students congregated in and around the huge decorative arch leading to The GM. Men in dark suits and sunglasses circled the area. The scene was reminiscent of a political rally. The security and crowds of people; it was all very surprising.

“Did we miss something?” asked Artorius, sounding torn. He was trying to give Indigo his attention but at the same time wanted to satisfy his curiosity.

Monson breathed a single word as if a light switch flipped: “Molly!”

Casey’s response indicated that he had come to the same conclusion. “She knew that this was going to happen. That’s why she’s here.”

“Argh!” spouted Monson in frustration. “We should have gotten on her case a bit more.”

Somewhere behind him, Monson heard Indigo ask Artorius, “Who’s Molly?”

Monson chuckled slightly as Artorius tried to explain. “Should we go see what all the secret service is about?”

Casey, Monson, Artorius and Indigo made their way forward, falling in with the growing crowd of people. Now that they were closer, Monson and the others could see the sharply dressed men in dark sunglasses forming a sort of barrier in front of the students. In the distance, Mr. Gatt was talking and gesturing agitatedly with a large group of these Men In Black. He seemed to be arguing with them.

His eyes on Mr. Gatt, Monson failed to remain cognizant of his immediate surroundings and almost had a repeat of his completely turbulent first meeting with Kylie Coremack after orientation.  Monson skidded to a stop, barely able to avoid falling over the wheelchair of Grayson Garrett.  A southern drawl taunted him playfully as Grayson looked over his shoulder.

“You know, Grey, you really should learn to be more aware of your surroundings.”

“Yeah, I hear that a lot,” replied Monson apologetically. “Anyway, sorry about that. I was watching Mr. Gatt
-
”

Grayson interrupted him. “No worries, I’m used to...” A loud yet sweet sound rumbled from the area of Grayson’s lap, causing his sentence to trail off.

Monson chuckled. “What was that?”

Instinctively, and not even considering the fact that it was probably very nosy, Monson stepped towards Grayson’s side and was pleasantly surprised to see a black cat with yellow eyes cat sitting in his lap. A very pretty animal, its coat was the darkest black, sleek and shiny. It looked well-fed and groomed, as a cat should be.

“Hey there, buddy.” He put out a hand. The cat met his outreached palm with enthusiasm. Monson scratched between the cat’s eyes and it purred loudly in response.

“Is he yours?” asked Grayson, his voice curious.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing. No collar, huh. Sure is cute, isn’t he?”

“Grey, you really shouldn’t touch that thing.” Casey yelled from a ways off.

Casey and Artorius pushed their way next to Monson. Indigo was conspicuously absent.

“Where did Indigo get off to?” inquired Monson. “Didn’t she want to talk about something?”

Artorius answered, pouting outrageously. “She got a text on her phone. For some reason she had to jet. Something about Cyann.”

An acidic gurgle of anxiety singed Monson’s innards at the mention of Cyann. He asked the obvious question.

“Is Cyann OK?”

“She didn’t say,” said Artorius, coming a bit closer to look at the cat. “Just said she had to go.”

Casey also moved forward to examine the cat. “Grey, if you’re worried, you could just call and ask her
-
”

“Drop it Casey.”

“Oh, you are so lame. You were practically making out with her
-
”

Monson’s reply erupted like a volcano. “Casey! Don’t say crap like that. That’s how rumors get started.”

Casey grinned maliciously

Monson sneered. “Oh snap. That’s totally what you were
-
”

The sound of a familiar voice put an end to the conversation, and not just theirs but that of every student and MIB alike. Monson estimated that a large part of the school was currently making its way to The GM for breakfast. Considering this, causing the crowd go quiet was quite an accomplishment.

“Can I have your attention please?” Mr. Gatt’s voice sounded polite but strained. “Thank you. I will be brief. Classes as well as all club activities are cancelled today. Due to some unforeseen circumstances, our dark-suited friends will be performing security sweeps on campus, and they would like to accomplish this without student inference.”

Muttering broke out among the gathered crowd. Security sweeps? Why on earth would they need security sweeps?

His hand swept out from his body, gesturing towards the students. “I assure you. There is nothing for you to worry about. The dean has asked me to express his deepest regrets for the inconvenience, but until further notice, all students will be confined to The Barracks. The Ex Service will cater your meals and All Access will broadcast any updates. Please proceed to your dorms. Thank you.”

Mr. Gatt retreated towards the MIB he had been talking to when the boys first arrived. Grayson joined Monson, Artorius and Casey back up the path to The Barracks. Many of the students were talking loudly; most sounded worried.