AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“But why? If she isn’t talking to Myrna, what good does coming back here do?”
“It puts her in contact with the Thing, doesn’t it?” Grant grimaced. “Fuck. Maybe it took her a few years to learn Latin—”
“My stars!” Mrs. Charles stopped eating her imaginary meal. “Latin!”
“Huh?” Huck stared. “What in the actual fuck?”
“Did she just…?” Grant blinked slowly.
“Yeah.” Huck had no idea what to do, as breaking Mrs. Charles out of her routine was historically a very bad idea.
Mrs. Charles was actually looking at them with a sweet little smile, but she hadn’t said anything else.
“What should we do?” Huck asked out of the corner of his mouth.
“Uh, just go with it?” Grant mumbled back.
“You’re the medium here. Not me.”
“Fine. Thanks.” Grant turned so he was facing Mrs. Charles, and he asked her politely, “Yes, Latin. Do you know it?”
“Why, yes!” Mrs. Charles kept on smiling. “Fascinating tongue. I used to spend my afternoons listing all the homographs I could find—”
“Homo-what?” Huck snorted.
“—and I found it to be such a lovely language.”
“Homographs?” Grant asked. “What are those?”
“Oh, my darling boy!” Mrs. Charles laughed.
Huck felt like he should be afraid. Mrs. Charles was laughing. She wasn’t supposed to laugh. She was supposed to eat her damn dinner and not destroy the hotel. He trusted that Grant knew what he was doing, but it still made him nervous as hell.
“Homographs are words that are spelled the same and have many meanings, whether or not they’re pronounced differently,” she replied patiently, as if she was a teacher and Grant was her student. “Likebow. You may tie a bow on your dress so it looks pretty when you bow. You see?”
“Ah, yes.” Grant grinned. “Like bass, the fish, or bass for music.”
“Very good!” Mrs. Charles seemed especially pleased. “You’re a very bright young man.”
“Thank you, ma’am. That’s very kind of you.”
Mrs. Charles squinted. “Hmm, bright… Why, yes. You’re very bright indeed! Ah! Which reminds me of a Latin homograph,nitor!”
Grant made a small squeaking sound. “O-oh! You don’t say?”
“I do say!” Mrs. Charles beamed. “It is spelled N-I-T-O-R, but depending on whether you say nitor, or nitor with a long I, the meaning changes.”
“And what would those meanings be?”
“Ah, yes. It can mean try or brightness. It was always one of my favorites because I do so love the bright light that filters in here when I would… Oh.” Mrs. Charles frowned. “Well, Ididlove it anyway.” Her frown deepened, and she stared down at the empty table. “What was I doing?”
The floor rumbled ominously, hard enough to make the tables and chairs shake.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Huck hissed.
“Uh, Mrs. Charles?” Grant pleaded hastily. “Could we, uh, could we maybe talk some more about Latin? Or anything you want? Anything at all?”
Mrs. Charles didn’t appear to have heard Grant at all, and now the chandeliers were clinking overheard.
