Read Stranger and Stranger Page 5


  Later—around 2 a.m.

  Amazing discovery—busted through to an unused region of the sewer system where the walls are like twelve feet high! Um, also, keyword = UNUSED. No idea what Silifordville built them for, but there has never been human poop sluiced through THESE tunnels. Nice!!! I discovered them while I was just slogging around beneath Silifordville, enjoying myself. Eventually I came to a dead end blocked by a watertight drain gate. I jimmied that gate right open, and there in front of me lay these beautiful tunnels—pristine, perfect, and ALL MINE.

  I closed up the door behind me so that it can stay clean in here, and I’ve been walking around looking for a way to the surface. Nothing! I will have to make my own secret entrance, I guess. Will return with skateboard, cats, paint, brushes, snack treats, candles, Victorian tapestries, camera, surveyor’s gear, mapmaking gear, and spelunking gear. OtherMe is going to be very impressed! CANNOT WAIT!

  Later

  Came back home to make sure OtherMe had sandwich provisions and found her at the Oddisee, coding away merrily, noshing egg salad. We spent the rest of the night working together on projects, all of which went much quicker with four hands. We cleared the floor in the back half of the bedroom and then started removing the floorboards, creating hidden compartments, and filling them with various treasures that we’ll enjoy rediscovering when we move again. We drew up plans for an improved sun-spigot, similar to the prototype I built in the Dullton house, but with some nice modifications. And we increased the number of booby-trapped hidey-holes in the basement to seventeen.

  And, very important, we built an interface we call the DreamSeizerTM that will allow the Oddisee to monitor OtherMe’s dreams and wake her if she gets out of bed. Um, that’s assuming she leaves the electrodes attached to her face all day.

  Fingers crossed that we have a nice, uneventful day of sleep! I could use it.

  June 9

  tragedies narrowly averted, 1; mothers placated, 1; potentially regrettable decisions made, 1

  Woke up shortly before sunset to find Raven standing beside the bed, holding an ax!!!! Oh bogflax, what a terrifying sight!

  OtherMe was already awake, standing on the bed, struggling with Raven for control of the ax. I yelled at Raven to put the ax on the floor. Blasting dogfrix, am glad that ended well. We have no idea what she could have been thinking, but OtherMe said she heard me talking in my sleep, so clearly Raven was responding to that. OK…scary!!!!!!!!! Am very glad that OtherMe was there to save me!

  Anyway, OtherMe and I have talked it over and decided to follow through with our sarcastic threat to donate Raven to science. We’ll miss her help around the lab, but as OtherMe put it, we’re in a new town here, and we really want to be out and about, deep in exploration and espionage, not worrying about the mischief our golem is getting up to.

  I did suggest other options.

  ME: We could just dial down her programming? Or lock her in the birdcage when we’re not actually using her?

  OTHERME:…OK, look, I’ll just admit it. I’m PROUD of Raven. She’s AMAZING, and I made her out of bird parts! I want Science to know! Is that so wrong?

  ME: Uh…no, it’s not so wrong. [Except…I think I’M the one who made Raven…]

  Later

  After much discussion with Mom, and several long phone calls, OtherMe has arranged for Raven to go live with Gigi Doubleton, President of the Silifordville Science Club. I argued for explaining Raven’s true origins to Gigi, but OtherMe persuaded me otherwise, having cooked up the following very impressive pack of lies:

  Raven was born in Eastern Europe and orphaned at an early age.

  A very secret government organization adopted her, with the plan to turn her into some kind of superspy.

  She was then subjected to years of hard training, hypnosis, experimental drugs, and radiation. (Go OtherMe!!!!!)

  Her gentle spirit was completely broken by this rough treatment, and she failed to perform well on the spy SAT, or whatever they call it.

  The secret government organization then smuggled her to this country and dropped her off at a rock festival, where they thought she would blend right in.

  After being used as a sketchbook for the day by several tattoo artists, Raven wandered out to the parking lot and used her superspy lock-picking skills to break into Mom’s car, where she fell asleep in the backseat.

  Mom didn’t even notice Raven in the car until they got home.

  Having heard Raven’s sad story, Mom decided to let her stay.

  After a year of our warm, loving, supportive family environment, Raven has begun to heal. (AHHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAAHHHH!)

  What she needs now is a more science-oriented setting where her special needs can be addressed and her special talents harnessed.

  Specifically, she has to be instructed to do everything. Otherwise, she is liable to sit around all day, not blinking or breathing, and giving everyone the creeps. (No lie.)

  Also, she is not to be messed with, as she has the strength of 5 men. (Also not a lie.)

  Also, she can talk to birds. (100% true.)

  Surprisingly, Gigi Doubleton is very gung ho about taking Raven in, and apparently has elaborate plans for her rehabilitation. I guess I AM a tiny bit uneasy about all this, but OtherMe had some pretty convincing arguments, and Mom just looked so pleased to hear the news, and, hey, Raven’s really a very sturdily built golem.

  Anyway, I can always steal her back if necessary!

  Later

  Forgot to mention that our DreamSeizerTM interface for the Oddisee successfully captured lots of OtherMe’s REM activity while we slept. And MAN!!!!! She sure has some icky dreams. No wonder she sleepwalks. Just as an example: In one of her dreams she suffered a hideous head wound that left her brain exposed. The cats accompanied her on the ambulance ride, but were tempted to their limit by the scent of raw, bloody brain. Cut to a scene of three cats licking their chops and one cat (Sabbath) licking the clean, empty interior of OtherMe’s brainpan. And then her personality was divided among the four of them. Then the cats died, and their bodies were devoured by dozens of rats. Then OtherMe’s and the cats’ personalities were divided among them. Then the rats died, and their bodies were devoured by beetles. Then…yeah, see above.

  I think it’s safe to say this is weirder than my average weird dream. And when I told OtherMe I was kinda jealous of her weird dreams, she sorta cringed and said, “You can have them!” I guess she doesn’t enjoy her nightmares like I do.

  Poor OtherMe!!!!!!!

  Later

  It’s OtherMe’s turn to leave the room. She’s going to do some scouting over at Venus Fang Fang’s house. We have been coveting that amazing obstacle course and plotting a way to get the dog out of the picture. Here’s hoping OtherMe comes up with something brilliant!

  While she is out and about, I have decided to get myself reinstated in the cats’ good graces. Not one of them has come near me in three days! I admit to feeling a little offended. Also, I’m kind of mystified. I mean, they’ve tolerated twelve moves, a raven-golem, and too many noisy/stinky/otherworldly science projects to count, and they can’t deal with an extra ME? Zang, if anything, they should be stoked about getting twice the attention. Whatever. We will see what some snack treats, baby talk, and chin-scratching can accomplish.

  Later

  No dice!!! Am very insulted. Mystery saw me coming and turned tail—disappeared into the basement—I never did find her. Miles gave a bloodcurdling RrrrrrAowww and went out the window into the night. I managed to capture Sabbath and force him to endure a little petting, but I can only handle so much pain and blood loss, and had to let him go after a few minutes. Had the best results with NeeChee, who found himself cornered in my closet. He hunkered down and pretended to be asleep while I brushed, petted, and baby-talked him for a while. But the look in his eyes was sheer horror.

  Am pretty devastated by this. I’m used to having my Posse around me (and on me and under me) all the time. They’re the most perfect, inte
lligent, beautiful, sensitive, entertaining, hilarious companions I could hope for. And maybe it’s not the healthiest attitude to prefer feline friends to human, but that’s just how it is. They are my best friends, and suddenly they can’t stand me, and IT HURTS.

  Um, in fact, this is kind of embarrassing to write, but it actually made me start to tear up a little.

  That’s right! I said it! I cried. Do not even remember the last time I cried. Must win back my cats somehow and soon!

  Later

  OtherMe just got home. She says she went back to Venus Fang Fang’s yard and tried to trap the dog in his pen with strategic use of leftover liver. (Leftover Liver = great name for a…well…for someone else’s band.) He did not go for that.

  OtherMe’s new plan is to invent cat collars that will terrorize him into submission. The Posse can then infiltrate the yard for us and keep the dog under control while we enjoy the obstacle course. Told her I was all for that, but testing the collars might be tough, considering that the cats run from the sight of us.

  OTHERME: Really? I hadn’t noticed.

  ME: Seriously? You didn’t notice three days of no cat affection?

  OM: Huh, no. Guess I’ve been thinking about other stuff. Like, you know, how I duplicated myself.

  ME: Yeah. [Except…I think I’M the one who duplicated myself…]

  OM: Just give them some snack treats and baby-talk them a bit. They’ll come around.

  ME: Yeah. Thanks. I’ll try that.

  Am not real happy. Gah. Well, Mom’s asleep, so I’m getting out of the house for a bit.

  Later

  Have cut a private door into the clean + dry section of the sewers through a convenient pothole I found (and enlarged) in the alley behind the junk shop in downtown Silifordville. Am very pleased.

  Small drawback—hopefully small, that is: I was observed!!! I had finished crafting a nicely camouflaged door for my pothole, dropped down into the sewer, and started setting up my provisions for a good painting session, when I heard my door creaking open, and the next thing I knew, this kid had jumped down into the sewer and was standing around looking at my stuff!

  I’m pretty sure I recognize him from the group of standard, basic, average, common teens who interrupted my peaceful enjoyment of the local skate park the other night. (Then again, they all looked the same to me.) However, he may turn out to be somewhat less ordinary than most. I realize this violates the latest addition to my personal philosophy re: other people and their ability to spoil the Good Things in Life, BUT, he may be OK. I’m not completely sure yet. Our conversation went a little something like this:

  KID: [Cheery. Annoying.] Hey!!!!!

  ME: [Annoyed beyond words.]….…. Nnnnnnnnnn.

  KID: What’s up, man, I saw you digging this hole, so I, like, hid and then I followed you down here! MAN, this place is rippin! Omigah, you got your brushes out, you’re gonna paint down here, huh. Yeah, I been looking for a spot like this, some big empty concrete walls, maaaaannnnn…[Rubbing his hands across the walls like a freak.] These walls are PERFECT.

  ME: Mmmm.

  KID: Name’s Larry, they call me Binary Larry, I write code on walls, big walls, in binary.

  ME: That’s kind of counterproductive.

  BL: Yeah, well, that’s what they all say, they just don’t get it is what I say, they don’t see the beauty, the cold and gorgeous beau—

  ME: Counterproductive’s not a bad thing.

  BL: Oh wow! You DO get it! You totally get it, man. Hey, so like, what’s your name?

  ME: [Turning away. Mumbling as much as possible.] Mmmlee.

  BL: Emily. What a great name. So, yeah, Emily, is it cool if I come down here and write code? I could, like, take the south-and west-facing walls, and you could take the north-and east-facing walls?

  ME: [Enduring terrible, invisible struggle inside: Dislike for Humanity vs. Loyalty to Fellow Coder and Painter.] [Grudgingly allowing the latter to win.] [Nodding.] K.

  BL: Woohoo! Yeah, Em, it’s gonna be so slickin!! I’ll bring my boom box, and some music, and burgers, and—

  ME: WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA. Couple of things we need to get straight.

  BL: [Totally chastised.] OK?

  ME: [Ticking off items on my fingers.] You can never call me anything but Emily. You cannot bring burgers into my sewer. If your music sucks, and it probably does, I’m turning it off. And you will never again say “Woohoo.”

  BL: Dude. I’m so checked. I’ll never say that horrible word again. See you tomorrow night, man!!!!

  BINARY LARRY

  Yeah, I’m pretty ambivalent about letting this Binary Larry back into my sewer…but, BUT, he appears to be willing to learn from his mistakes, and well, criping thujones, all the kid wants is a place to WRITE BINARY ON WALLS, and I can kind of appreciate that.

  Yeah. I may regret this. We will see.

  Later

  Have made some progress getting the sewer ready for extended painting sessions. Have constructed cat ladder so that the Posse can come with me tomorrow night. Assuming they like me tomorrow night.

  Cannot wait to show this place to OtherMe!

  Later

  Back at home. Have decided that sharing a bed with OtherMe is a bit too close for comfort, what with the sleepwalking and the creepy dreams and the accidental doses of ether, so I have rigged myself a cozy hammock near the ceiling, with a rope ladder I can pull up after me. It’s not like I don’t trust her, and it’s not like I think she would, I don’t know, intentionally remove the electrodes from her face so that I can’t tell when she’s left the bed during the night, but…well, let’s just say I enjoy my nightmares better when I’m not concerned about ACTUALLY getting accidentally murdered in my sleep, OK?

  June 10

  golems donated to science, 1; possible horrible mistakes made, 1

  Note to self: Do not ever, ever, EVER join the Silifordville Science Club!

  Gigi Doubleton, President, and her sister Bebe, Vice President, came over after dinner to have some coffee and pie and meet Raven. OtherMe was hiding out in the bedroom.

  GIGI: So this is young Raven. We’ve heard so much about you, dear.

  RAVEN: Uhhhhhh?

  ME: She doesn’t talk much.

  G: Well, we’ll certainly work on her conversational skills.

  ME: Con-ver-sa-tion-al skills. So…hm…what kind of scientists are you, anyway?

  MOM: [Laughing nervously.] Sorry, my daughter doesn’t mean to be rude, but she’s VERY interested in science. I’m sure she’d love to know your specialties.

  BEBE: Oh. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! We’re not SCIENTISTS.

  G: Raven, dear, why don’t you say your goodbyes, and we can show you your new home? Ms. Strange, lovely to meet you, no time for pie, we have SO MUCH shopping to do, and I can see that Raven desperately needs a complete spa treatment…

  MAN!!!! Those are some annoying, self-satisfied, stuck-up, self-centered, non-science-oriented ladies. I have no idea why they decided to form a Science Club when they are clearly not interested in science. Unless you count the science of accelerating the drying time of nail polish (Wave Your Hands in the Air vs. Use a Blow-dryer?), the science of choosing your lifelong hairdresser, and the science of marrying a doctor.

  Gigi and Bebe!

  Needless to say, I immediately formed an intense dislike of them based on their clothing, perfume, posture, names, facial expressions, and voices. Maybe that’s unfair of me, but I had expected them to be much more academically oriented and much less obsessively well-groomed.

  Anyway, I now understand why they are so interested in taking Raven in. It turns out that Gigi and Bebe had already heard quite a bit of town gossip about her. Surprisingly, the town gossip has nothing to do with her being a preternatural creature possibly made of undead body parts, and everything to do with her being beautiful, mysterious, and shabbily dressed. Man, I really don’t understand people sometimes at all. Anyway, the Gige and the Beeb see her as a diamond in the rough
, and plan to get her polished up, so that she can be the social hit of the season and make them wildly popular. Or something like that. Secretly, I suspect them of wanting to use her as bait for attractive gentleman doctors.

  They did not even stay to hear any of my tips on Raven care and maintenance, but gathered up “their” Raven and hustled her away. Gah!!!!! Have taken note of their address, in case I need to bust her out. Who knows, maybe as soon as tomorrow!

  Later

  Could not wait for tomorrow. Am sitting in the bushes outside Gigi and Bebe’s house. Wow, I kind of didn’t realize a town this small could hold houses this big. They are RICH! And Raven is clearly getting the best of care. I spied on Gigi and Bebe for a while as they gave her some sort of makeover. It was highly entertaining. I mean, I’m pretty sure these ladies have never done their own nails in their lives, but there they were, down on the floor, giving Raven a pedicure! Good stuff. I guess I can let them have their fun for a while and give Mom a break from golem stress. Have scoped out their security system, and it will be at most two minutes’ work for me to disable, should the need come up.

  —Gotta get home, am expecting a phone call—

  Later

  Back at home. Have received the expected phone call from Gigi, asking how we get Raven to do things. I couldn’t resist having some vengeful fun with her.

  ME: What do you want her to do?

  GIGI: Well, at the moment I want her to go upstairs, but she just stands there.