The Lost Days (16 page)

Later

Went down to the local bus depot and searched the departure list for the town with the funniest name. Am now scheduled to leave for Monkey’s Eyebrow, Arizona, in twenty-three minutes. Fingers crossed that my instinct is correct, and I find Molly under the first overpass I check.

Am reeeeeeeally hoping that I will soon know for sure whether A) I am not (and never have been) Molly Merriweather, or B) I used to be Molly Merriweather, but have lost all trace of my original personality due to pesky amnesia. [Shudder.]

Day 16

No Molly in Monkey’s Eyebrow, though she (or I?) was here (going by “Tigra”) about a year ago. After searching all the overpasses and talking to all the runaways (most of whom had stories to tell about the legendary Ripper), I took the next funny-town-name bus out of there, and am now on my way to Pflugerville, Texas. I can only hope that the runaway network there knows something. Anything.

Day 17

Nothing in Pflugerville. Have moved on. Am on the bus now to Willacoochee, Georgia. Wish me luck.

Day 18

All this travel and meeting strangers is crushing my spirit. Really miss those times in Blackrock when I would do a lot of silent communing with the cats as therapy. Am extremely sorry I don’t have the cats with me.

Anyway, this kid in Willacoochee thought I was “Bunny,” but had not seen me (Molly?) in about two years. Am on the bus
again, about an hour away from Sopchoppy, Florida. Could use a lucky break.

Later

Am sick to death of hitting one random town after another looking for Molly. Was “recognized” as “Squid” in Sopchoppy. I guess Molly was there about six months ago. Or I was. Hard to say who is who at this point. Maybe Tigra, Bunny, and Squid are separate people. Maybe there are even more of us. GAHHHH.

Later

Finally, a lead. Some kids on the bus recognized me (as “Yodi”) and said they saw me in a town called Blandindulle just two weeks ago. Am on my way there now. Fingers crossed.

Day 20

HEY, AMNESIA GIRL!

YOU ARE NOT MOLLY MERRIWEATHER!

I had to tear out the stuff I wrote about what’s going on. I CAN’T KNOW IT, this is very important. I just hope I can do…what I need to do…this time.

Later (same day???)

OK.

Here’s what I know, take 2:

1. I’ve been sitting on this park bench for at least two hours.
   
2. I’ve got no actual memory of anything I’ve done before that. In my entire life.
   
3. I’m really glad to have this notebook full of information, which I’ve just read three times.
   
4. Based on my notebook and what I can see around me (e.g., the completely pointless ten-foot wrought-iron gate with no fence to go with it, and the plaque on the bench that says EMMA LeSTRANGE), I assume I’m back in Blackrock.
   
5. Something happened to me between Day 18 and Day 20 that gave me amnesia. Again.
   
6. No telling if I actually made it to Blandindulle or not.
   
7. No telling if I actually found Molly Merriweather or not.
   
8. No telling WHO I actually am, besides (obviously) being
   Amnesia Girl. But I guess I’m not Molly Merriweather.
   
9. There’s something I need to do in Blackrock that requires me to have amnesia.
   
10. In my pockets I found a slingshot, a pen, and some pieces of folded paper (pasted in below).
    
11. Certain people I’ve read about in this notebook are going to want explanations for why I’m back in Blackrock. Explanations that I better come up with.
    
12. I am going to need a new fridge box for tonight.
    
13. I have some cats to meet.
    

Here is the first piece of paper I found in my pocket:

I immediately unfolded it and found this one:

I opened that one and found this one:

So I guess I’ll wait it out. Am not happy, though.

Later

These are some goooooood cats, all right, but I don’t have the tiniest memory of them.

Found a fridge box tucked away behind the Dumpster in the alley. Am hoping it was mine before and that the cozy slept-on spot was not made by some other homeless person. Am writing EARWIG on the inside of the doorflap in case of future attacks of amnesia.

Wish I could delay going into the El Dungeon but am starving. Do not want to talk to anyone. Hope I will recognize who is who. Hope I do not make too big a fool of myself.

Later

Am sitting in the El Dungeon eating the most excellent sandwich. CounterChick/Raven was very happy to see me. At least, I mean, she said “Uhhhhhhhh, hi” in a kind of lively way. Have not explained myself to anyone. Should probably track down this Schneider person and tell him the scoop, though.

Later

Am avoiding talking to anyone about anything. Am hiding behind the counter of the El Dungeon, staring at the regulars through my spyhole. Am pretty sure I recognize HamHawk by his chessboard and mini Magic 8-Ball, but I kind of have no clue about the rest, so I’m reassigning nicknames randomly. Have not seen anyone that could be Curls.

Later

In the interest of wasting time, I sorted a huge pile of junk mail for Raven and found a letter addressed to EARWIG! It was from my old fake mom, Sharon. Here’s what she had to say:

Zang, what a relief to know they won’t be coming after me to take me back to Zigzag! Good point about the dress, too. Seems like I never really thought about that before. Will investigate carrying capacity of pockets when I feel up to it.

Later

Went out to the impound lot with the cats to check out that cool van I’d been reading about. No security in sight (probably doughnut break time), so I was able to pick the lock in peace. Then the cats and I settled down inside the van, which was even cooler than it seemed from what I’d written about it. I don’t really know if I still think it’s just an art car. For example: There’s this crazy glass thing bolted to one of the side panels that, at first glance, you
might assume was just some kind of sculpture. But now I notice there’s traces of chemicals on the inside, and scorch marks on the outside. So maybe the van actually IS some kind of mobile laboratory…and it’s just kind of out of commission at the moment.

I also rediscovered the now-empty secret compartment where I found Sabbath’s collar. I think I was right to assume that the cats and the van belong to the same person, since the upholstery seems to be made of about 45% man-made materials and 55% black cat hair, whiskers, and claw fragments. I guess I should be disgusted by that, but it seems kind of comforting. Took a looooong nap in there with cats piled on me. Good stuff.