The Lost Days, Page 2

  Nitzer

  Cabbage

  Had just walked outside and snapped a picture of the building when a police officer tapped me on the shoulder and wrote me out the stupid $37 ticket. And then he didn’t even ask me for the picture. So here it is.

  McFreely

  UGH. Will continue my search for entertainment somewhere else.

  Later

  Have entertained myself somewhat by drawing a little map of the town. I do mean little. Would never have bothered if it weren’t such a pitifully little town. (Not sure it even deserved two pages, but I turned the next page to start anyway.)

  The town logo.

  Also, here’s the town logo:

  I’m finding it very peculiar that the town is named Blackrock and even uses this silly logo of a tall mountainous black rock, a rock that has got to be imaginary, since the town seems to be in the middle of flatlands that just go on and on. No mountain or black rock in sight. I mean, Blackrock is actually sitting in a kind of dust bowl. Dust platter. Dust serving tray. Whatever. And not black dust, either, but beige and beiger, like all of the buildings.

  And as if it needed to be any flatter here, that one tree at the minipark seems to be the only tree in Blackrock. Plenty of dead stumps, though. Seriously weird. Did the townspeople go on some kind of tree-killing, beige-painting spree, or what?

  Later

  Have just seen the shows of medicine, dolls, and guns. Mostly for lack of anything better to do. Was not expecting to find a major clue to my amnesia. Here’s what happened. I was sitting in the back row of benches in the big tent where they were holding the demonstration of psychic powers. And this young kid, a little boy, was the psychic. I mean, of course I’m not saying he was actually psychic; those things are all a con. But anyway, he had the audience going. Bunch of rubes. He did some cheap parlor tricks like “Guess My Card” and “Where’s My Snake?” And then his assistant, one of Ümlaut’s fashionable crew, started walking around the audience so they could ask the kid questions about their love lives and “Am I gonna get sick?” and stuff.

  I was just getting up to go when the assistant stuck the mic in my face. I didn’t even say anything, just kept on going. And the next thing I knew, the kid was saying, “You can’t remember a thing past two days ago, can you?”

  Well, I got out of there quick. It was kind of scary. I haven’t told ANYONE about having amnesia, so how else would he know, other than that…HE KNOWS?

  Maybe he saw something happen to me.

  Believe you me, I’m going to find out.

  Am hiding out under the counter at the El Dungeon waiting to see if Ümlaut and his crew show up. Then I’ll go look for the kid.

  Later

  Have talked to the kid. I found him in his trailer playing video games. His name is Jakey and he goes by the Moon Child of the Valley of the Knowing. (!!!) He is nine years old and has been on the road all his life reading minds. He claims that he never saw me before today and that he is really psychic. I told him I didn’t believe him but he told me the names I gave the cats earlier. Told him I wasn’t convinced and he said that’s cool, he had some high scores to beat, and could I close the trailer door softly so as not to disturb his parrot.

  So much for that lead.

  Really. Late. Can’t. Sleep.

  It just occurred to me that I don’t know where Raven sleeps, or if she sleeps, because she’s always behind the counter of the El Dungeon. Will investigate later and report back.

  Even Later

  Really couldn’t sleep so I got out and roamed around Blackrock by night. I like it much better than Blackrock by day. Everything looks less beige by moonlight. Also very important: no people. Had those four black cats following me the whole way, except when I was following them, over fences and down alleys and such. They’re not easy to see in the night. I guess neither am I.

  I’m not sure, but at one point I thought the cats might be leading me somewhere on purpose. We had been walking around this kind of grim, antiseptic warehouse, just looking in windows and doing nothing in particular, and suddenly they all just darted under this fence, and I went after them and squeezed under, and they led me down this little service road, behind this other building to the left, and under this other fence, and while I was creeping under THAT fence, something got caught in my hair:

  Then off we went running down this narrow walkway—and suddenly the cat in the lead, McFreely, the old lady with the starry eye, gave this killer hiss, and all the cats scattered just as the security officer stepped out in front of me. Even a few fake tears didn’t get me out of that one, and I now owe the town $68 for After-hours Loitering.

  Guess I need to learn that cat’s warning hiss.

  By the time I got back to the lean-to, it was so late it was early. Black cat posse was waiting for me, so I piled in with them nice and cozy. They all milled about for a bit, stepping on me and one another and muscling for their favorite spots (McFreely by my head; Cabbage on my feet; Wily and Nitzer in a complicated matrix across my stomach and arms), and of course it wasn’t until everyone was finally settled that I remembered the cat collar still in my hair. Pulled it out and showed it to them. “Anyone here know Miles?” I asked. Well, what do you know? The half-blind guy, the one I was calling Wily, stepped right up and meowed nice and clear. The collar fits him pretty well, too.

  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.

  POSTMISTRESS:

  Address.

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

  PM:

  Your name.

  ME:

  Earwig.

  PM:

  [Glaring.] Your REAL name.

  ME:

  Uh, Raven.

  PM:

  Last name?

  ME:

  Uh, Dungeon.

  PM:

  Well, Miss Raven Dungeon, you are not listed as a resident at that address.

  ME:

  It’s a business.

  PM:

  And you’re not listed as the business owner.

  ME:

  So who is?

  PM:

  One moment.

  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.

  POLICE OFFICER:

  Everything OK?

  PM:

  [Rushing back into the room. Acting all huffylike.] Oh, Officer Summers, thank goodness you’re here! This little…URCHIN…is, well, I don’t know what she’s trying to do, besides harass a tired postmistress half to death!

  ME:

  [Silently heading for the door.]

  PM:

  [Pointing at box of junk mail. Screeching.] You can’t leave that here!

  PO:

  [Standing in front of door. Blocking me from leaving.] What’s your story, kid? Haven’t seen you around. Name?

  ME:

  Earwig…Raven…Dungeon…

  PO:

  Your real name.

  ME:

  I don’t know.

  PO:

  [Laughing. Having time of his life.] Oh boy! Chief is gonna love this! Let’s move. Grab your box.

  —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.

  ME:

  Hey, Moon Child, what else do you know about my amnesia?

  JAKEY:

  I only know what you know. You don’t know a lot.

  ME:

  Do you seriously believe you have psychic powers?

  J:

  Hey, wouldn’t it have been nice earlier if Blackrock had just turned out the lights for a bit so you could see more stars?

  ME:

  ….….……. OK.

  J:

  Also, just so you know, St. Clare’s Day is some weird local holiday they have here. I mean, you didn’t forget it or anything.

  ME:

  OK.

  J:

  Also, pretty much everyone in town works for the junk-mail company, so you might want to stop complaining about it unless you want everyone to hate you.

  ME:

  I said, OK.

  What can I say? The kid has a talent. Still, he’s useless to me.

  Later

  Fracketing bogcarts! Just when I was feeling better about my basic knowledge of the world, I suddenly discovered I do not remember the word for a baby cat. Am afraid to ask anyone. Am afraid to discover what other common words may have been lost in the amnesia. Am hoping I don’t have any casual conversations that reveal I do not know the word for a baby cat. Probably safer to avoid all casual conversations, just in case.

  Later

  I found out that Raven has a little back room with a door that blends right into the awful wood paneling behind the counter. I spent the evening sitting as far away from her as possible, pretending to read the paper, while secretly spying. Also, keeping notes on the regulars and how long they stayed. I include a sample of my data for posterity. All names have been changed, or I guess made up, since I don’t know anyone’s actual name.

  GRAPEY:

  4 hours 7 minutes

  SIZZLE AND PETAL:

  3 hours 9 minutes

  CURLS:

  once for 5 hours and 15 minutes, again later for 3 hours and 20, then again for 4 hours and 45

  HURK:

  2 hours 17 minutes

  STEVE:

  between 2 and 3 hours

  HAMHAWK:

  11 hours 33 minutes

  Back to Raven. While pretending to be extremely busy taking notes, or studying my shoe or something for clues to my identity, I was actually keeping a sharp half-eye on the counter region. All of a sudden she vanished. I mean, maybe I blinked for a microsecond longer than normal, but really, I was looking right at her, and she just vanished.

  I glanced around really fast. Not a single customer was looking at the counter. She’d totally disappeared! With complete stealth I snuck to the counter, just in time to catch Raven slipping out through her homemade, wood-panel-camouflaged, no-doorknob-having, no-one-knows-I-went-to-the-breakroom secret little door. Pretty amaz
ing, until I busted her using it. She didn’t let on much, just made me a metric grip of sandwiches and much espresso.

  Much! Espresso!! Later!!!

  I’ve come up with a few possible scenarios of how I got here and lost my memory:

  Something involving space travel and being from a planet other than Earth. Yes, I do SEEM human…Could I just be humanoid?

  I was on a family trip when I…fell out of the car…and bumped my head…and my family is so large, or so absentminded, they still haven’t noticed I’m missing.

  I am a highly trained spy operating under cover so deep, my memories had to be erased.

  I used to work with Rachel, previous employee of the El Dungeon, until Raven knocked us on the heads and took our jobs.

  I used to work in Ümlaut’s traveling medicine show until…yeah, see above.

  I was living in a typical suburb of Anytown, USA, until I decided to escape my incredibly meaningless life by giving myself amnesia and hopping a bus to nowhere.

  I was actually a cat named Earwig until being magically transformed into a human girl. By someone. For some reason.

  I came here from 100 years in the future. The trip destroyed my memory.

  I am a creature from another dimension.

  I am a supernatural being recently risen from death.