Emily The Strange_ The Lost Days Part 2

Am hiding out under the counter at the El Dungeon waiting to see if umlaut 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.

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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: [image]

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.

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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.

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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 ma.s.sive pile of junk mail had acc.u.mulated 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.

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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 O OFFICER:.

Everything OK?

PM:.

[Rus.h.i.+ng 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 hara.s.s a tired postmistress half to death!

ME:.

[Silently heading for the door.]

PM:.