The House in the Cerulean Sea(49)
Lucy shrugged. “Maybe. But Kant was talking about normal people. I’m not normal.”
“Why is that?”
He tapped his stomach. “Because of where I came from.”
“Where did you come from?”
“A vagina after it was penetrated by a penis.”
“Lucy,” Mr. Parnassus admonished, as Linus choked.
Lucy rolled his eyes. He shifted as if he were uncomfortable. “I came from a place where things weren’t so good.”
“Are they better now?”
“Mostly.”
“Why do you think that is?”
Lucy squinted up at Linus before turning his head toward Mr. Parnassus. “Because I have my own room here. And my records. And you and the others, even though Theodore won’t let me see his hoard.”
“And the spiders?”
“Still there.”
“But?”
“But I can have spiders in my head as long as I don’t let them consume me and then destroy the world as we know it.”
Linus could barely breathe.
Mr. Parnassus didn’t seem to have that problem. He was smiling. “Exactly. To err is to be human, irrational or not. And while some mistakes are bigger than others, if we learn from them, we become better people. Even if we have spiders in our brains.”
“I’m unholy.”
“So some people say.”
Lucy’s face scrunched up as if he was thinking hard. “Arthur?”
“Yes?”
“Did you know your name is a mountain?”
Mr. Parnassus blinked, as if he’d been caught off guard. “I did. How did you know that?”
Lucy shrugged. “I know a lot of things, but I don’t always know how I know them. Does that make sense?”
“Sort of.”
“Mount Parnassus was sacred to Apollo.”
“I know.”
“And do you know Linus of Thrace?”
Mr. Parnassus shifted in his seat. “I … don’t think so.”
“Oh! Well, Apollo killed Linus with his arrows because of a musical contest. Are you going to kill Mr. Baker?” Lucy turned his head slowly to look at Linus. “If you do, can you make sure to use arrows? I don’t want him to be un-holey too.”
He began to cackle.
Mr. Parnassus sighed as Linus’s chest hitched. “Did you just tell that entire story to be able to make a joke?”
“Yes,” Lucy said, wiping his eyes. “Because you told me once that if we can’t laugh at ourselves, we’re doing it wrong.” He frowned. “Am I doing it wrong? Nobody seems to be laughing.”
“Humor is subjective, I’m afraid,” Mr. Parnassus said.
“That’s unfortunate,” Lucy said, staring back up at the ceiling. “Humanity is so weird. If we’re not laughing, we’re crying or running for our lives because monsters are trying to eat us. And they don’t even have to be real monsters. They could be the ones we make up in our heads. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“I suppose. But I’d rather be that way than the alternative.”
“Which is?”
“Not feeling anything at all.”
Linus looked away.
* * *
Lucy was delighted when Mr. Parnassus ended the session early at a quarter after six. He was told he could head to the kitchen to see if Ms. Chapelwhite needed his help. He jumped up and spun in a little circle as he stomped his feet before heading toward the door, bellowing over his shoulder that he hoped Linus found their time together illuminating.
Linus wasn’t sure illuminating was the right word.
They sat in silence as Lucy descended the stairs, making far too much noise for a boy his size. It sounded as if he bounced off every surface he could find on his way to the first floor.
Linus knew Mr. Parnassus was waiting on him, and he took the opportunity to gather his thoughts as best he could. His notepad was distressingly blank. He’d forgotten to take down a single observation. That wasn’t good for someone in his position, but he thought he was owed a little leeway with all he’d seen and heard since arriving on the island.
“He’s not what I expected,” Linus finally said, staring off into nothing.
“No?”
He shook his head. “There’s … connotations behind the name. Antichrist.” He looked apologetically at Mr. Parnassus. “If I’m being honest.”
“Is there?” Mr. Parnassus asked dryly. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“I’m not sorry for that.”
“And I don’t expect you to be.” Mr. Parnassus looked down at his hands. “Can I tell you a secret?”
That startled Linus. He’d gathered that the master of Marsyas didn’t dispense his secrets often. It was infuriating, but understandable. “Yes? Of course.”
“I worried too, when I heard he was being sent to the island.”
Linus stared at him. “You worried?”
Mr. Parnassus arched an eyebrow. Linus found that he had to remind himself that according to his file, this man was five years older than he. He looked oddly young. Linus didn’t know why, but he sat a little straighter, and if he sucked in his stomach slightly, it was no one’s business but his own. “Why do you sound so offended?”