The Lost Days (19 page)

And it doesn’t matter how rotten I feel about that. I’m not Molly Merriweather. I can only stand so much human contact.

On the other hand, I am reeeeeeeally nervous about what Attikol might do if he finds out my dress is so…unusual.

Later

Just my luck—while I was thinking over all of this, Jakey showed up at the El D. Talk about awkward.

I kind of wish he wouldn’t leave his trailer. I guess he’s lonely, but hearing all those random people’s thoughts makes him awfully testy. And more selfishly, I would rather be the one to decide when I’m gonna share the contents of my brain with the Moon Child. You know?

Anyway. What made it all even more than awkward was what Jakey had to say, and this is pretty embarrassing to write: He asked me if I would want to join the medicine show. Said they were looking for a crystal-ball reader. Said he had some ideas on how to turn my “special” dress into some kind of magic act, and how we wouldn’t even need to explain it to Attikol. Said I could bring the cats, as long as they didn’t bug his parrot. Said he could really handle having a friend, especially one with a bad case of amnesia.

Unfortunately for Jakey, he knew my answer as soon as I did.

Later

As if the day wasn’t bad enough already!

Raven made the same cappuccino order over 100 times while HamHawk and I tried to figure out how to stop her. She is extremely strong. I would even say she has the strength of five men. I say this because HamHawk, who has the weight of five men, had to sit on her to finally get her to stop.

I told all the customers we were closed and now I’m sitting here wondering what in fog’s name I’m going to do. Maybe Raven needs a doctor? A vet? Some quality secret closet time??

Man, this blows.

Later

GOOD STUFF!!!!

I was sitting at the counter staring at Raven, trying to get her to talk and pondering what I would even tell a doctor if I took her to one. “Uh, the problem is, she was making all this espresso…and wouldn’t stop…making espresso. Do you have a pill for that?” Right. But the more I stared at her, the more I was convinced she didn’t need a doctor any more than a broken cash register would need a doctor. I stared and stared and stared at her and then I saw the clasp behind her ear. Reached over and released it, swung her ear right off her head like a little door. And then her controls were there under it and I could check the calibrations and such.

Crazy, huh?

Raven circuits.

She’s well-made, that Raven. Great craftsmanship. But definitely the type of
machine (android? robot? golem?) that needs regular maintenance. Otherwise, inside-out sandwiches and endless espresso, apparently. While I was in there tuning things up, I noticed that she’d been dialed way down—no wonder I thought she was such a birdbrain! She was so grateful when I got her back up to some smarter operating. Sandwiches are back to normal, no more hiccups, AND she can speak in complete sentences. Still not much of a conversationalist, though. And still short on useful information.

Would LOVE to find out who made her. (Emma LeStrande???) And what she’s programmed to do, besides make coffee and sand
wiches and give evasive answers to crucial questions.

And why she showed up here the same time I did.

Later

I just realized that, of course, Raven is…unusual, meaning Attikol might be interested in her for more than just loooove.

I guess I can add that to the growing list of things I don’t want Jakey to know about.

Really late the same day (I think)

Higgined! I should have checked out Raven’s secret closet a loooooooong time ago.

The first part you see when you go in is no big deal. A tiny little room with a mirror on the wall, a little shelf, a bag of cosmetics with RACHEL written on it. Emergency rations of water and astronaut food. Some coat hooks on the wall. Your basic extremely tiny, suspiciously secret employee break room, I guess.

BUT.

As soon as I went in I felt different. Recharged or espressofied. And like my eyes were sharper, or something. All the little fibers in the shag carpeting stood out so clearly. So right away I noticed the small ridges in the carpet that outlined the trapdoor underneath.

The cats and I have spent a good long time in there. Down there. It goes way, way, way down. Farther than you’d ever think.

There’s a spiral staircase that goes down and down and down. Seems like it would be so easy to slip and fall. I’m not sure how far you would fall if you slipped. You’d be lucky to catch on to a stair.

But I don’t think I’ll be falling, cuz there’s a certain air in there that makes me feel excited and invulnerable. I started out just walking down, you know, but soon going faster and faster, till I was racing, barely touching the stairs with my feet. Then suddenly, WHOOSH, molten black rock would come roaring up the stairwell and I’d start to race back up. Most of the time I’d just barely make it or it got my foot just a little but other times it totally overtook me and I’d be blown right up the stairwell tumbling around and soaking through with hot molten rock.

Yeah, hot molten rock! And it burns, burns, burns. So much that I scream like crazy. But I’m not incinerated. And I don’t want to stop. Explain it? I can’t.

The cats and I spent a long time riding the rock, and let me tell you it was all right.

Next day (I think)-Day…23? (Haven’t slept. Losing track of time.)

I reeeeeeallly wish I’d checked out the closet better back when I first discovered it. But I didn’t know then that Raven herself was so…unusual.

Today I went down the staircase a lot more slowly and detective-like. There are all these landings that are sort of protected from the black rock when it whooshes. Here’s a short list of stuff I found:

1. A bookcase of fascinating titles like
   Occult Thermodynamics and You
   .
   
2. A door locked with three complicated bolts.
   
3. A loose brick that reveals a secret cubbyhole full of the most darling bright red spiders.
   
4. A bunch of hidey-holes you can use to stay dryish when the lava whooshes up.
   
5. A large oil painting of a menacing black rock.
   
6. A folder full of architectural sketches for the attractive black building that the El Dungeon once was.
   
7. A telephone nook with one of those old-timey black phones, the kind with a dial and a cord (not working).
   
8. A beaten-up tin box full of miscellaneous electrical parts.
   
9. A bucket on a pulley.
   
10. A coat hook with a lab coat hanging on it (nothing in pockets).
    
11. A wooden bench covered in carved graffiti—must do rubbings of it later.
    
12. Some extremely pleasing rocks for slingshotting.
    
13. 4 giant statues of cats done in hard, glassy black rock.
    

Later-possibly a lot later (??)

Have pulled up and let down the bucket many, many times, but there is never anything in the bucket except hot liquid black rock.

Later

I JUST realized I haven’t slept at all or eaten anything since I first went down into the closet. I wonder why? I’m not hungry or sleepy, and I feel incredible. Like I could fly. There must be something about this place that’s recharging me.

Uh-oh.

Doesn’t that pretty much point to the black rock being…unusual?

4 black cats sniffing 4 black cat statues.

And therefore, something that Attikol would like to get his hands on?

Am feeling the need for big-time diversionary self-preservationist tactics.

It’s all making me feel extremely lost and alone. It wouldn’t be so bad if I could at least remember some of the good advice I’m sure my mom has given me over the years. I’ve been trying to prompt my memory by saying out loud: “It’s like Mom always said…” But I get nothing.

Am holding tight to that folded piece of paper I found in my pocket, the one I instructed myself not to open until Day 27. I reeeeeeally hope it contains some kind of lifeline, such as my mom’s phone number, or a recipe for reversing amnesia.

Hope I can hold out a few more days on my own before I give in and open it.

Day 24

You know what I’ve realized today? It is VERY suspicious that Schneider never told me I looked like the dead founder of his town. And I KNOW he’s seen Emma LeStrande’s portrait. I mean, I did think it was kind of odd, but excusable, that he’d never looked through the scrapbook with all those photos of her. But I started to suspect him today when I took Sabbath to Hilda’s to get his stitches taken out, and I saw a photo of Hilda and Emma and a teenaged Schneider on Hilda’s mantelpiece. Even THAT was KIND of excusable because…well, MAYBE he had forgotten what Emma looked like in the 13 years since she had died. (AND hadn’t visited his grandma in all that time.) But THEN I went inside CITY HALL for the first time to find Schneider, and there is a six-foot by ten-foot portrait of Emma hanging in the foyer!!! I was so shocked I turned right around and came back to the El Dungeon to think it over. He is clearly hiding things from me!! But WHY??? Would dearly love to get a sneak peek into his mind. Wish I could ask Jakey to take a look for me,
but I have to steer clear of the Moon Child unless I want Attikol to know about Raven and her secret closet full of magical black rock.