Louse by David Grand Read Free Book Online Page B

condition, it seems obvious. I would like to tell the doctor, but it simply isn’t my place. As it stands, I am to abide by the rule which states:
Contradictions and illogicalities discovered by staff members are to be ignored and not spoken of unless a formal query is made by Mr. Sherwood, Head of Intelligence, a representative of Mr. Sherwood, or by Mr. Blackwell himself
.
    Dr. Barnum’s gaze doesn’t abate.
    I would be more than happy to inform him without compromising myself. However, I don’t know how to go about it. I am not clever enough. I am exhausted. I haven’t slept in a very long time.
    Dr. Barnum, the boys, and I watch the TV.
    The closed circuit network scans the floors of the casino. Every nine segments the camera closes in on a man who’s full bodied, round faced, well dressed, and unshaven standing at the head of a roulette table in Gaming Room Three. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers each time he lays down ten thousand dollars on a spread of 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 11, 12, 32, 33, 35, and 36. He doesn’t appear to have a system; he just continues to bet the same numbers over and over in different variations of one-number, two-number, and four-number bets. He is losing miserably and as far as I can remember has been at the same table for the past three hours.
    Obese women licking ice cream cones and dressed in tight white polo shirts gather around to watch. After a moment, this man’s image becomes fixed on the screen. The rotation of the camerasceases, which means he has reached a certain debt ceiling, the exact amount of which I can’t tell. The gold bars of the pay-out/collection counter glisten behind him.
    The television begins to chime loudly.
    Poppy’s eyes hesitantly flutter open.
    The sonorous expression on his face makes me feel groggy.
    The croupier, a man with puffy cheeks and chin, is approached by a tuxedo clad pit boss whose thick mustache brushes against the dealer’s ear. As these two men whisper to each other, the man gambling reshuffles his new pile of chips once, twice, a third time. The pit boss walks away and the croupier spins the silver ball over the track. Once the ball is released, the man gambling pinches the bridge of his nose, hesitates a moment, and evenly distributes his bets. As the ball orbits the inner wheel, two security guards who have been standing in the background step up and stand directly behind the gambler. They place their hands on his shoulders and the guard on the left of the screen whispers something to him. When the ball slows, drops, and settles into place on number twenty-three, the croupier cleans up the chips and the security guards swivel the man around in his seat. They lift him up and escort him away by his elbows.
    Poppy is now fully awake.
    He awkwardly bends down to his feet and pulls his blanket up to his waist.
    â€œDr. Barnum,” he says. Poppy’s voice is weak, but much stronger than it was earlier. The two bearded men stare at one another and I can feel a silent and strange tension begin to surface on their faces as the hum of the ventilation system changes keys.
    â€œHow are you feeling tonight?” Dr. Barnum asks.
    â€œFine, Felonius. Just fine.”
    Dr. Barnum reaches for Poppy’s wrist to take his pulse again.
    â€œThere’s no need for that,” Poppy admonishes, pulling his hand from the doctor. He sits up, pressing his palms into the mattress.
    â€œNo, I imagine not,” Dr. Barnum says with an uncharacteristic, nervous smile as he slowly pulls his hands back into his lap and bows his head. His cheeks deflate. After a moment, the doctor lifts his head from his chest as though he has carefully thought through what he wants to say.
    â€œThey have begun to talk, H. H.”
    â€œYes, I know. I’ve heard them.”
    â€œThey understand the full gravity of the situation.”
    â€œSo it seems,” Poppy contemplates. “You’ve done a