The Lost Days (18 page)
Authors: Rob Reger
So, no leads on the cats’ owner, but I’m OK with that, because Emma’s stuff in the attic was…it was
SO GOOD
. Granted,
Emma died 13 years ago, so it was probably Hilda who arranged everything. But the STUFF itself was so random and peculiar and exotic and singular and wondrous and…
—OK. Enough with the adjectives, and on to My Top Favorite Things in Crazy Emma’s Crazy Stuff:
- Snow globe from Transylvania, with little vampire children making a snowman out of black snow.
- Taxidermied vulture “eating” taxidermied bat.
- Evil-looking Tiki god about the size of a hippopotamus.
- Evil-looking doll with three-inch red fingernails—safely locked in glass case (whew!).
- Really old bronze shield with an engraving of the town’s imaginary black rock on it.
- Decorative rack of really sharp, suspicious-looking souvenir grapefruit spoons.
- Full set of knight’s armor including battleaxe.
- Ye Olde Mystery Object which is either a meteorite, the world’s largest raisin, or a shrunken human head.
- Box full of glass eyes, some human and some feline.
- Pool table with fifteen 8-balls and nothing else.
- A lifesize matchstick model of a DeLorean DMC-12.
- Cyclopean fetal pig half-eaten by mites.
- Antique crash-test dummy, made of…I don’t know, porcelain? Yep, they don’t make ’em like they used to!
Later
Curls is back at the café today. He was clearly surprised to see me. Turns out he has been spending less time milling about at the El Dungeon and more time milling about at the medicine show, trying to appear useful and get hired. He is refusing to accept the facts that
A) I am not Molly, and B) I am not qualified to give him advice on becoming more popular with Ümlaut’s crew, no matter how much he begs. He was getting to be such a pest that I was forced to threaten him with slingshotting in sensitive areas of his anatomy. He retreated to a far table and has been sitting there glowering for the past two hours.
After getting him out of my hair, I was in a take-charge mood, and determined to get a straight story out of Raven for once, so I went and sat at the counter for about an hour asking her questions. GAHHHH BIRDBRAIN!! She would drive the Spanish Inquisition batty. Here is a tiny sample just to show the general flavor of my pain:
| | M | | So, where IS Rachel? |
| | R | | Uhhh, she’s away. |
| | M | | Where? |
| | R: | | Iono. |
| | M | | When is she coming back? |
| | R: | | Iono. |
| | M | | So who hired you? |
| | R: | | Uhhh, the owner. |
| | M | | So you’ve met Emma LeStrande? |
| | R: | | Iono. |
| | M | | Well, who pays you? |
| | R: | | Huuuhhhhh? |
| | M | | WHO SIGNS YOUR PAYCHECK? YOU GET PAID TO WORK HERE, RIGHT? |
| | R: | | …. Iono? |
So, yeah. After that, I kind of stopped wondering what crimes Raven had committed and started wondering who is taking care of Raven, instead.
Later
I walked around town with the cats for a while. I guess they’d rather stick to the dark back alleys on our explorations, but I really wanted to see what kind of progress Attikol had made on his challenge. Counted eleven buildings with full construction crews working before I ran into Jakey—first time I’ve seen him outside the psychic show or his own trailer. Makes sense. I can’t stand people, either, and I don’t have to hear their stupid thoughts. But a kid has to buy parrot food sometimes.
I was kind of surprised that he had nothing to say about my discoveries about Emma LeStrande. But I guess when you’re a nine-year-old boy, there are only a few things less boring than the dead founders of towns. No matter how cool their collections were.
He asked me if I knew any Egyptian jokes.
| | M | | No. |
| | J | | Oh yeah? Well, what did the one Egyptian say to |
| | M | | Don’t know. |
| | J: | | Ewwww, what sphinx? AHA HA HA HAHHAHA HAH AHHA! |
| | M | | Yep. |
| | J: | | What did the one Egyptian conjoined twin say to the other Egyptian conjoined twin? |
| | M | | [Groaning in pain.][Long pause.] Well, go on. |
| | J: | | We’ve got a lot of gut in common. AHA HA HA HA HA H HA HAH H AHHA H HA H H AH H HAH H AHHA!….. Get it? |
| | M | | Yes. Yes, I get it. |
| | J: | | Man, you should lose your memory more often. |
| | M | | Oh. I see. I guess you’ve told me these before, huh? |
| | J: | | [Laughing like maniac.] Hey, why did the Sphinx have to run to the bathroom? |
After at least ten more jokes in that vein, I decided I would make the kid do me a favor in return for letting him torture me with terrible puns on “pyramid,” “Cairo,” and “sarcophagus.” So I took him back to the El Dungeon to have him get a scope on Raven. Pointless—he couldn’t read her at all! The only thing he could tell me was “She’s not like other people.” Duh+Duh=DUH.
Had him do a quick walk-through of the other customers’ minds just in case. Here are the pathetic results:
- Curls thinks Ümlaut and his crew have really improved the El Dungeon by breaking and replacing all its old furniture.
- Curls still doesn’t believe I’m not Molly. Delusional!
- Curls DOES (finally) believe I have amnesia. Since it explains why I don’t hang out with him.
- Curls is peeved that I have been ignoring him and hanging out with Jakey. (!!!)
- Curls has a crush on Raven.
- HamHawk has a crush on Raven.
- Ditto Hurk, Steve, and Grapey.
- Hurk thinks Ümlaut’s Pätented Pötion of Pöwer is going to cure his male-pattern baldness.
- Steve thinks Ümlaut’s Pätented Pötion of Pöwer is going to help him win the lottery.
- Grapey thinks the Pätented Pötion is a bunch of hööëy, but bought a crate of bottles for ironic presents to hipster friends in big cities.
- HamHawk really misses Sizzle and Petal, who sold their house to Attikol and bailed town two days ago.
- Every customer including HamHawk has plans to sell Attikol their homes at inflated prices and leave Blackrock in the next few days.
- Every customer has a triumphant, rebellious, embarrassing Goodbye and Eat My Dust speech prepared for their manager at the junk-mail factory.
Gahh! I feel sorrier than ever for Jakey!! Also, a little creeped out. I mean, I don’t have anything to hide, but if/when I get rid of the amnesia, I don’t want him reading MY mind.
Later
Since I got back I’ve been noticing that Raven has been having trouble talking. I mean, even for her. She has a bad case of the hiccups, which has gone on for the past day or so. Today she made me a sandwich, but it was inside-out. And she’s been doing a lot of chewing stare, without the chewing. I keep thinking I see spiders crawling out of her neck, but it’s only her hair. All around I would say she’s looking pretty poorly. If she were an espresso machine I’d say she’s in dire need of a tune-up.
Day 22
What a depressing day.
First, I decided it was time to see if my dress is really as special as Sharon thought. Turns out it is. It doesn’t seem there are any limits to what it can hold. I put all of the following in the pockets and there’s not even a bulge:
- 16 Blackrock newspapers
- 13 soda cans with spiders in them
- 3 French toast
- 1 Polaroid camera
- 37 slingshotting rocks
- 1 slingshot
- 7 pieces of scrap lumber from the Dumpster
- 11 (empty) espresso cups
- HamHawk’s chessboard
- Raven’s cape
- 2 shoes
- 1 metric grip of junk mail
- 4 black cats
I should be excited about this, but knowing what I know about Attikol, I find it very worrisome. I mean, the dress is obviously more than just special. In fact, I’ll go ahead and say I think it’s downright unusual.
It was all starting to make me feel more and more uncomfortable about seeing Jakey again, because it was looking more and more like something he really should tell Attikol about, if he ever wants to see his home and family again. And really, why should I expect him not to tell? I have nothing to offer him. I don’t mind hanging out with him for now; it’s been fun playing video games and gossiping with him—but once the amnesia’s gone, I’ll be like everyone else: avoiding him to protect my privacy.
