The Lost Days (4 page)

Day 4

Slept laaaaate and it was barely day anymore when I woke up. Had the most shattering nightmare. So devastating, I’m almost worried I may have severe psychological problems I just don’t remember having.

The overall gist of this dream was that a giant lump of black candy, all molten and full of power, was buried under the El Dungeon. It sent up these invisible ineluctable sugar tentacles that tempted me to touch them. When I did, I got these huge sugar-shock rushes, so heavy they made my molars hurt. And I couldn’t not touch the tentacles. And I knew that the lump of black candy was mine and I had to protect it. But all the time it was being attacked by underground creepy-crawly cave mutant people who licked and lapped at it, and there was nothing I could do. One by one the invisible sugar tentacles died, and the underground candy pool leaked away almost to nothing, and then suddenly I knew that when the last drop of candy was gone, my heart would stop beating, and I wouldn’t be able to take a breath. And then my heart DID stop, and I woke up yelling “AIEEEE!” and all the cats jumped off me and went running down the alley.

Wow, my heart is thumping as I’m writing this down.

In fact.

It feels kind of good.

I think I LIKE nightmares.

Later

After my excellent nightmare I was feeling all productive. Went into the El Dungeon ready to take on the day (um, late afternoon, anyway). Swept the floor, performed basic maintenance on espresso maker and cash register, ate sandwiches, and tried to clean up Raven’s back counter area a little. (I need more room to stretch my legs while spying.) A massive pile of junk mail had accumulated there since I sorted it all two days ago. I took pity on Raven, who if you ask me does not have the mental capacity for sorting junk mail, and went through it for her. After a long while sifting through ads, coupons, flyers, leaflets, and circulars, I was starting to notice that all of it looked suspiciously alike, and then I found something that explained it all: a glossy promotional postcard from Marshall Prepress & Printing, the local direct mail advertising company, who wished to offer the El Dungeon a special rate on its own glossy promotional postcard.

The only other item of interest was a flyer from the Blackrock Telecommunications Dept. encouraging everyone to be prepared for St. Clare’s Day. A holiday of which I have no memory. Great. No telling what other holidays and basic knowledge of the world were lost in the amnesia.

Man, Raven owes me big. I think my soul died a little bit from reading that garbage.

Later, Much Later

Am sitting in the police station waiting for the police chief to see me. Am not happy. Here’s what happened.

Had finished sorting the junk mail, dumped it all into a box, and walked it down to the post office. Stood in line for twenty minutes while some guy in front of me tried in vain to get his mail from the postmistress. He finally left, swearing to get his lawyer involved. I gave the postmistress the box of mail and told her we were tired of doing other people’s recycling for them and would she please take our address off the junk-mail list.

[I gave it to her. She typed at her computer and stared at the screen, then at me.]

She retreated into her back room. I was just leaning over the counter to get a look at her computer screen when the front door opened and a police officer came in.

—Gotta go, the chief is ready to see me, more later.

Later

Spent about an hour at the police station saying “I don’t know” over and over. Turning my pockets inside out to show them I had no ID. Telling them the story of my life as I knew it (i.e., the last four days). Good times, good times. “Put that slingshot away or I’ll impound it.” “Wipe that frown off your face or I’ll GIVE you something to frown about.” Farking bumwarks!

Was finally released when they got tired of hearing “I don’t know” for the millionth time. Got off relatively easy, I think, with a $52 ticket for Impeding Postal Business. At first I thought it was really weird, not to mention really bad policework, that they did not check some kind of missing persons database for my picture. But then I thought about what the chief had said when he let me go: “Have your uncle come with you next time and we won’t have to keep you so long.” Which didn’t make the least bit of sense until I thought of Uncle Attikol’s Deadly Dollhouse. And how Ümlaut hands out stacks of cash to the police. And how the chief rubbed his fingers in that subtle “bribe me now” way when he said it.

So, they think I’m with the medicine show. Which makes me feel pretty sure I’m not from Blackrock. Also, it’s not a bad alibi. Will introduce myself as Uncle Attikol’s Amnesia Girl if I have any future police encounters.

Still, it was all very tiring, and I am now thinking seriously of ditching this weird town. Went down to the bus station and stared
at the destinations and arrivals schedule, hoping something would sound familiar and/or appealing. Nothing.

It’s scary how, when I try to think past three days ago, the only thing I can remember is the feeling of how it is to remember. Not even the whisker of an actual memory. Do I live in a city? In a cave? In a tree house? Is it weird that I’m living in a lean-to made of a refrigerator box? Am I weird? The lady in the bus station stared at me like I was weird. Do I have parents? Friends? Pets? Do they miss me? Etc. Got myself so worked up into fake-missing people who might not even exist that I even cried a little fake tear, then got irked at myself for being a baby. No point getting sentimental until
I at least know what I’m missing. After all, I could be an orphan; or maybe my parents did this to me, maybe I’m better off without them.

Later

When I got over my fake-pity party, I picked up the cats at the lean-to, and then we went and roamed around the perimeter of town for a while enjoying the solitude. I kind of lost track of time, I guess. I sort of took a nap lying out there in the middle of the dust plain. When I woke up I could see all these stars. They were so great, and all I could think was, I bet I could see so many more
if Blackrock would just turn out the lights for a bit.

Since I was already out on the edge of town, I decided to drop by ol’ psychic Jakey’s trailer and see if he was ready to cough up any interesting information about my amnesia. He was in the middle of a game.