In the steepled attic there is a steel box, nailed shut; in the steel there is a glass bell; in the bell is one torn corner of tracing paper, with a red circle inked on it.
The second floor has two rooms. One of those rooms has been divided in half with Cellophane; one long dinner table and several white picket chairs dominate this room. Penny has also added what looks to be an easel constructed of popsicle sticks. The second room has been painted a dull gray; here the decorative wallpaper and flowery curtains have been stripped off. Piles of little cardboard cutouts and jumbles of colored wire decorate one corner. In the middle stands a male bear doll, standing upright and attired in fresh-pressed professional clothes, with a cardboard cone for a hat.
The first floor has a kitchen; cheery yellow tile supports a scrubbed-looking stove with gleaming copper pots. There is a flowery couch and, where the TV should be, a small round spiral paper cut-out. The spiral has several pencil nicks and dings, apparently much abused in the otherwise well-cared-for home. The dining room table is absent (having been moved to the conference room above), but meals are probably not taken in the kitchen much anyway; inside the cardboard refrigerator are only shelves and shelves of drawn-in bottles. It would seem the preferred drink here is something red.
The basement is where the beds are. There are only two beds, but there are three little bear dolls here, at the moment happily snuggled against one another in one corner of the room. In another corner are piles of some black plastic shapes (spears? Guns?).
Other bears are outside. They seem to be laughing at a whispy figure on the roof of the house whose numerous skirts are made of twisted Kleenex. The smiling bears are pointing up at the Kleenex, inviting her down.. Is it a ghost? Is it an angel?
Only Penny or her Ka-Tet could say.
