by Rob Reger
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:
A bookcase of fascinating titles like Occult Thermodynamics and You.
A door locked with three complicated bolts.
A loose brick that reveals a secret cubbyhole full of the most darling bright red spiders.
A bunch of hidey-holes you can use to stay dryish when the lava whooshes up.
A large oil painting of a menacing black rock.
A folder full of architectural sketches for the attractive black building that the El Dungeon once was.
A telephone nook with one of those old-timey black phones, the kind with a dial and a cord (not working).
A beaten-up tin box full of miscellaneous electrical parts.
A bucket on a pulley.
A coat hook with a lab coat hanging on it (nothing in pockets).
A wooden bench covered in carved graffiti—must do rubbings of it later.
Some extremely pleasing rocks for slingshotting.
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.
Oh Duh. Jakey can’t hear Raven’s thoughts. (That, or Raven doesn’t HAVE thoughts. Whatever.)
I just hope she can follow instructions.
Later
I sent Raven out to Jakey’s trailer with the following note:
Yo Jakey,
Sorry I haven’t been to see you in a while but am very sick with laryngitis. Anyway, how would you like to do me a favor? I will owe you big-time. There’s this dude Schneider who hangs out at City Hall who knows all kinds of stuff about me that he won’t tell. Maybe you can get something interesting out of him. I told Raven to buy you some parrot toys if you want.
Later Your Friend,
Earwig
Now I’m making espresso for the regulars while Raven does my dirty work for me. Am crossing my fingers that all goes well.
Three Hours Later
MUCH PROGRESS! Raven is back! She had a letter for me from Jakey, which I’m pasting on the next page.
* * *
Hi Earwig,
Sory you are sick. I would come see you but Attikol will have a fit if I get larginitus. Sorry for terribel terrible spelling. Anyway the wierdest thing happened when Raven came here! She and my parrot were totally talking! I mean in bird language not English. I told you she is not like other poeple! Man she is the wierdest person I ever met eccept for you.
Anyway she took me down to city hall and we found Shenider. Yah he has a lot of ideas about you. First off he thinks you are related to this dead frend fiend of his name Emma. And did you know there is this giant picture of you on the wall there. And he thinks you are smarter than him and you will figure him out and be relly mad that he made you go to school and you will tell Emma on him wich seems kind of dum since she is dead and all. And he has a letter from Emma about you that I copied down for you.
That’s pretty much it about you, he also is trying to figure out how to stop Attikol from recking all these buildings in town, so maybe we will be leaving town soon. Also Raven took me to the pet store and bought me a bunch of parrot toys and so, its relly ok that she is so wierd! Also a lot of buildings are looking relly bad like they might fall down. HAHAHA I hope Attikol gets in trouble for it.
Bye,
Jakey
* * *
And here is the letter from Emma that Jakey apparently pulled out of Schneider’s mind.
* * *
FROM THE DESK OF EMMA LESTRANDE,
My dear Mr. Schneider,
As I am writing this, you are thirteen years old; but when you receive it, you will be twenty-six, and I will be long dead. I am arranging with a friend to deliver this at the proper time. When that time comes, a certain great-niece of mine will be arriving in Blackrock with the intention of accomplishing several tasks for me. I suspect that you will have no trouble recognizing her.
I am enclosing a sum of money that you may use to secure yourself a position on the City Council. (I am sure that things will have changed considerably in Blackrock in thirteen years—yet someh
ow I feel just as sure that the corruption and graft brought in by our Mayor will not have changed one whit. I do wish I had the strength to run him out, but I am old—you have no idea how old—and very, very tired.) In return, I ask that you use your position to assist my great-niece if she should need your aid.
A word of caution. You may assume that she is just as capable and intelligent as you are (if not more so), but she may be operating under certain…shall we say, self-imposed handicaps. Therefore, I am requesting that you interfere with her as little as possible, but provide whatever help she asks of you.
Thank you in advance for your kind assistance. I hope to receive an excellent report of your conduct from my great-niece. You may expect a fitting reward—“from beyond the grave,” as you young people say!
Yours,
* * *
Am in shock.
Am really in shock.
Also, am REALLY hoping the bird-talk episode wasn’t anything Jakey feels he should mention to Attikol. Also, did not realize Jakey’s psychic power was so burly that he can pull entire letters out of people’s minds!! Also, couldn’t Schneider have been a LITTLE more helpful?? Also, have clearly used my quota of capital letters and exclamation points for today, but CRABBING GOLDFRIX!!!!!!!!!! I wish Old Emma (Great-Aunt Emma?) had sent ME a nice explanatory letter!
Well hey now. Who’s to say she didn’t? Maybe I just haven’t found it yet.
OK.
Here’s what I know HOPE I know:
If I can believe the above letter, then I’m the great-niece of Emma LeStrande.
I was probably correct in guessing that I’m here in Blackrock to accomplish something, and that something is linked to Great-Aunt Emma.
Great-Aunt Emma seemed to know a lot about things that would be going down 13 years after she died.
There’s a possibility I can communicate with Great-Aunt Emma, if I can only figure out how.
Based on Jakey’s note, he doesn’t seem to recognize that telling the future and communicating from beyond the grave are highly…unusual talents. Am feeling glad that he is only nine, and all he knows of the world is the medicine show and the weirdos who run it. Fingers crossed that I’m correct here.
Schneider seems to think Great-Aunt Emma will be pissed to find out that he forced me to go to school.
I kind of wish I COULD get Schneider in trouble, but at least I know I have something to threaten him with.
Schneider is a shameless double-crosser and lives in a world of lies, BUT, he did tell me to check out the library’s collection of Emma LeStrande stuff back on Day 11, so I guess I can just torment him a little, rather than destroying him utterly.
I really do need to visit the library’s collection of Emma LeStrande stuff.
I also should be spending more quality time with my great-aunt’s belongings.
The secret closet and the liquid black rock are linked to some…unusual side effects. Possibly more unusual than not needing to eat or sleep. In other words: I can expect pretty much ANYTHING from Great-Aunt Emma.
I am going to search that secret closet for evidence that Great-Aunt Emma made Raven.
Great-Aunt Emma expected that I would be very smart. I need to live up to that. For my own sake.
Later
Well what do you know? I found a book down in Closet Land called Secrets of Golem Dominion. It does not tell you how to make a golem, and seeing as how it was written about a hundred years ago, I wouldn’t expect it to say much about a golem like Raven, who is running some pretty complicated technology. BUT. Here is the cool part, which I’m copying:
“Having completed the rites to animate the golem, you must place it under your command, and once this is accomplished, you may be assured, there is no power on earth that may diverte your golem from carrying out your decrees, nor will the mandates of any other person have effect.”
Isn’t that interesting, I said to myself as I read this, thinking about how I sent Raven out on errands with the Moon Child.
So.
I asked Raven to come out to the back alley with me. Told her to stand on one leg, hop up and down, bark like a dog, and rip a steel panel off the Dumpster.
All of which she immediately did.
Just to test things, I went back inside and asked HamHawk to come try giving her some commands.
All that happened was that they both looked at me really funny.
AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH I MADE A GOLEM I MADE A GOLEM AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH I HAVE A GOLEM WHO FOLLOWS MY EVERY COMMAND AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH
—OK.
No point in getting too cocky.
After all, I don’t know how smart I’m really proving myself to be. Lots of leads, very few answers. Nearly thirty days of failure. And you might think it would make me feel better to know that I’m capable of making, programming, and repairing a golem…but in some way Raven is now the hardest person in this whole place for me to be around. Because every time I look at her, I’m reminded that once upon a time, I was smart. Smart enough to make a person out of…whatever I made her out of. I mean, I’m not saying she’s perfect. She may not be great at conversation. Not that I would want her to be. And she really can only make espresso and sandwiches. Although, when it comes down to it, I wouldn’t want to eat much else.
Hmm…
Maybe these are not design flaws.
Maybe I should do a little more investigation on what she can and can’t do.
Later
Am feeling smarter. Here’s why.
RAVEN CAN’T…
BUT RAVEN CAN…
Hold a scintillating conversation
Talk to birds
Make pork chops, roast chicken, filet mignon, etc.
Make a killer cheese and avocado sandwich
Tell me what 10 divided by 2 is
Tell me how much 3 double lattes and 2 americanos would be, with tax
Do a somersault
Rip apart a steel dumpster
Ride a bike
Drive a car…or a VAN
Do you SEE that last item?? THAT is why she and I are headed to City Hall to meet Schneider as soon as they’re open.
Day 25
Things are looking up!!!!!
It’s surprising what people will do for you if they think you are smarter than they are. Also, if they feel guilty because of something bad that happened to you. Also, if they think you’ll get them in trouble with a dead lady. Anyway, I didn’t even tell Schneider about my new information—and still, he was like putty in my hands. PUTTY! Within twenty minutes he was telling the officer at the auto impound lot that the van was Raven’s, and it only SEEMED like the license plate wasn’t registered because Blackrock doesn’t subscribe to the National Registry of Highly Unusual Automobiles, which he clearly just made up, and that he was sure $20 would cover the ticket, the towing, AND the month in the impound…Well, it looked like a Jedi mind trick to me, but maybe the guy just owed him a favor. Whatever! The van is ours! Schneider is OK in my book!
And Oh My Frog, that’s not even the good part. The good part was when the four of us went out to the van and the officer cut off the chains and handed Raven the key, and she opened the driver’s door and got in like she totally knew what she was doing, and then reached down into her cleavage, and took out her driver’s license and the title of the van, which is in her name.
!!!
(Her last name, in case you were wondering, because I sure was, is not Dungeon, but Miller. Ha! Ha!)
AND, the GREAT part is that OUR marvelous van is now parked in the alley behind the El Dungeon where the lean-to used to be.
I gave Fridge Box II a decent burial in the Dumpster out back. But I wasn’t all that sad to see it go.
Oh. AND. The WONDERFUL part. The splendorous, beautimous, fantastiffical part is this: If the cats belong with the van, and the van belongs to my golem, and my golem belongs to me, then all of that adds up to one thing: Had a knockdown, laughing, meowing, squirming hugfest with them to celebrate.
/> The Cats are Mine!!!
Had a knockdown, laughing, meowing, squirming hugfest with them to celebrate.
Later
Have found the Letter From Emma!!!!!!!!!
Here’s how it happened: I was hanging out in the van trying to have a nice, relaxing nightmare, or get some inspiration for my next breakthrough, or, I don’t know, fully recover from amnesia, and the my cats were being just extremely pesky. Instead of piling on top of me as instructed, they were all over the van, walking on my face, making their collars jingle in my ear, tussling one another, etc.—at least, Miles, NeeChee, and Sabbath were doing all that. When I sat up to open the door and let them out, I saw that McFreely was quietly scratching up the upholstery from the floor between the two front seats. Now…I just don’t know what to think of this. Maybe it’s all a coincidence, but I think it’s fairly odd that she would A) Get the boy cats distracting me, B) Scratch RIGHT THERE, of all places, C) Stop when she had pulled up enough of the upholstery to reveal the corner of the letter, and D) Look directly at me and meow like “Are you happy?”
She is a very mysterious feline!!
Anyway, the Letter’s on the next page.
* * *
FROM THE DESK OF EMMA LESTRANDE
My dear great-niece,
How unfortunate it is that you and I will never meet, but fate has ordained that I will be dead before you are born. I am arranging with a friend to have this letter delivered to you once you are thirteen years of age. Understand, as I do, that knowing each other in life is hardly necessary; you and I will grow to know each other quite well nonetheless. As a sort of introduction, I am leaving you all of my property, and ask that you lay claim to it as soon as possible. Of course you will need to prove yourself worthy first.