The situation is as follows. Your inheritance, including one asset in particular of exceptional value, rests in a small town called Blackrock. I am enclosing a sum of money so that you can make the necessary plans to spend some time away from home. I leave the decision in your hands, but I suspect you will want to devise a subterfuge so that no parent or guardian insists on accompanying you.
I give you this stern warning: A very serious threat currently exists in Blackrock—a person who, if the facts were revealed, would stop at nothing to rob you of what is rightfully yours. Do not, under any circumstance, approach Blackrock until your defenses are prepared. At the very least, you will need to be incognito. If only there were some way you could defend your very mind—but I am afraid that is impossible, or that the solution is beyond my tired old brain. Dear niece, I would like to say that I have every confidence that you will find a way to remove the threat and take full possession of your property. My sources have assured me that you have a better chance of success than most people would. However, I must be honest with you: Your opponent is powerful and has even more powerful allies.
I apologize for the dearth of solid information in this letter, but I am sure you understand that it is impossible. This letter is incriminating enough already, and if it should fall into the wrong hands…One thing I can give you: a point of contact—my employee, Rachel, at a café called the El Dungeon. It will be a good place for you to start.
Follow your dreams, my child.
Your great-aunt,
* * *
Whew.
Where do I begin with all that?
Well, I’m going to make the following educated wild guesses:
My goal here in Blackrock is to take possession of my inheritance—Great-Aunt Emma’s estate.
The estate probably consists of the El Dungeon building and all its oddball treasures, the amazing secret closet, and, uh, the minipark, or something.
The one exceptionally valuable asset is probably either, I don’t know, the matchstick DeLorean (ha), or the customer base at the El Dump (ahahahah). Seriously though, I bet the real treasure is hidden behind the locked door in the secret closet.
Possible opponents: the mayor? The police—nah, she said “powerful”! Attikol? Ümlaut? Curls? Crazy Hilda??? Would like to think it’s the police, or Curls…but am afraid it is probably Attikol.
It seems that, at least for now, my opponent doesn’t realize he’s my opponent: He hasn’t discovered that my inheritance is valuable to him.
Great-Aunt Emma expected there would be some kind of attack on my mind. Which I am afraid is probably Jakey’s psychic power.
In light of current information, I now have a much better attitude toward my bad case of amnesia. Still, I will have to be extremely careful to prevent Jakey from knowing about certain…unusual items.
I could just wait for Professor Ümlaut’s Prophylactery and Revue and Uncle Attikol’s Deadly Dollhouse to leave town, and then claim my inheritance, except 8A) They come here every year, and
8B) Because of the stupid challenge I gave Attikol, he now owns most of Blackrock.
So I guess I have to somehow get Attikol (and Jakey) to leave Blackrock forever. Without letting them know why.
Even if I do manage to accomplish this, I still don’t know how I’m going to get my memory back.
Rachel totally bailed on her duty to help me out. Where is she, anyway? And why isn’t she here, helping me out?
Whatever subterfuge I devised to keep my parent or guardian from accompanying me to Blackrock, it’s bound to have some kind of time limit. Which could be either my salvation or my complete undoing.
I am screwed.
Day 26
HamHawk made his emotional goodbyes to Raven today. He has sold his house to Attikol like everyone else and is moving to Chicago. I have been too wrapped up in closet-diving, van-reclaiming, and mystery-solving to think about it, but now I realize I haven’t seen any of the other regulars in at least a full day. Curls and the Ümlaut crew are still here as usual, but they’ve lost some of their steam now that they have no audience but themselves. Anyway, it was hurting me to watch HamHawk tell Raven wistful things like “I’ll call you from Chicago, OK?” when she was barely responding, so I went out to walk around town and scope the situation a bit. The streets of Blackrock are looking surprisingly empty, aside from unwanted belongings being piled up on the sidewalk as people leave town. Many, many buildings are also empty. Most of them have been pushed one inch to the east and are now in the process of falling down. And almost all the rest have construction crews working to push them one inch to the east. Thereby knocking them down. I guess buildings don’t take well to being pushed to the east. Lucky for Attikol I never specified they had to stay intact.
Had a moment of terror when I remembered my dream about black liquid coming up from under all those buildings. But everything is looking safely dry. Well, that’s one good thing to hold on to. And all these other things still to worry me: Great-Aunt Emma is still technically the owner of the El Dungeon. And she’s dead. What is going to happen if/when Attikol tries to buy it? If Emma didn’t leave a will, could I claim ownership just because, um, I look a lot like her? And let’s imagine I did own the building. How far would Attikol go to complete his challenge? If the worst happens, and Attikol somehow does push the El Dungeon to the east, how am I going to keep him away from Raven?
What if Jakey comes to see whether I’m over the laryngitis?
What if I accidentally see Jakey on the street?
Later
While thinking this, I suddenly got very nervous and ducked into the nearest building, which happened to be the library. So I figured it was high time I saw the Emma LeStrande room. Hogbark! That was some good stuff. There is another large portrait of Great-Aunt Emma there. With her looking over me, I started reading through the documents she left. (Of course I was hoping for a will, but no dice.) They were all copies of patent applications—you know, those things you turn in to the government when you invent something, so that no one can steal your idea. Here are my favorites:
Mechanical linen-blackener
Amplitudinal sandstorm generator
Snake kibble
Leafblower annihilator
Automatic irrigation and feeding system for carnivorous plants
Cat thoughtwave amplifier
Method for bronzing live animals without hurting them
Organic electric wiring to be used inside living plants
Unbreakable polymer filament synthesized from coffee grounds
Earwig trap (laughed my cheeks off at that one)
Magnetic paint
Method for spinning cat hair into yarn
Hotrodded slingshot with hidden compartments
Later
Ran into Schneider on my way back from the library, which was kind of convenient, since he is the only person I could think of who might be able to answer some of my current questions. I decided to lay it all out for him.
ME:
Look, Schneider, I know everything.
SCHNEIDER:
Wow, you got your memory back?
ME:
Uh…no. I mean…I know all about that letter you got from my great-aunt Emma.
S:
…How could you possibly know that?
ME:
Uh, Great-Aunt Emma told me. From beyond the grave?
S:
Oh.
ME:
I was wondering about the reward she promised you. Because…she…said I should find out what you want.
S:
Well, uh, I don’t know if I actually deserve any reward. But, yeah, when you talk to her again, let her know, there is something, I mean, I don’t know if she could do it, maybe it’s not even worth asking, but…
ME:
Spit it out, Schneider.
S:
[Blushing like crazy.] I want to be mayor of Blackrock.
ME:
[Laughing like c
razy.] No problem, dude. I will definitely tell her.
Man, who knew Schneider was so mental?—Anyhoodle, what’s important is that he also coughed up the following information:
He confirmed that he owes Great-Aunt Emma a favor because she gave him enough money to pay a huge bribe and get elected to City Council.
Come to find out, Schneider is also Head of the Sanitation Department, Fire Marshal, and Coordinator of Charitable Activities. (Like I said—Mental!)
As far as he knows, EVERYONE has sold their property to Attikol, including himself, excluding my dead Great-Aunt Emma, who could not be persuaded to sell, being dead.
Schneider did not want to sell, but the price kept going higher and higher, and then there was some mention of kneecapping, so he thought it best to agree.
He’s now staying in Hilda’s spare room upstairs from the El Dungeon.
He knows that Attikol has been looking for Great-Aunt Emma’s will. So has Schneider. Nothing so far.
It would be pretty easy for Schneider to transfer ownership of her properties to me if we act fast, before all the town officials leave for good.
He says it is common knowledge that Attikol A) prides himself on never, never losing a challenge, and B) has never, never been so smitten with a lady as he is with Raven.
Rumor has it that the Mayor accepted a pretty staggering sum of money to give Attikol permission to go ahead and push the El Dungeon to the east once everyone is gone.
Schneider hopes I have some clever ideas on preventing this, since he doesn’t think Attikol will let a little thing like ownership stand in his way.
Schneider recommends that I do like him and pack my belongings in preparation for fleeing town, since he is sure the El Dungeon will be rubble in a day or two.
Schneider is being a major Mr. Bring-Down right now.
Schneider really DOES believe I can communicate with Great-Aunt Emma. He said I should say “hi” and “sorry” for him. Wow.
Day 27
Have done something very, very shameful.
Was feeling super-overwhelmed after yesterday’s conversation with Schneider. No idea how I am supposed to deal with all this stuff about Emma’s will and fighting Attikol for her property. Was getting very weak-hearted with thoughts like “I’m just a kid” and “The SMART thing to do here is…to panic” and so, I’m sorry to report, I took out the folded bit of paper that I found in my pocket on Day 20, and opened it up.
Was extremely excited to see “MOM” and a phone number. Blessed Mom. Blessed emergency hotline to Mom.
I hunkered down behind the counter of the El Dungeon and dialed.
SOMEONE:
Hello?
ME:
[Hm, doesn’t sound like a mom voice. Do I have a sister?] Mom? Is Mom there?
S:
Hello? Oh…Earwig!
ME:
[Good grog, is my name actually Earwig?] Hi! Can I talk to Mom?
S:
Dude, Earwig, it’s me, Molly.
ME:
Oh….….……Molly. Wow. Uh, sorry, I was actually trying to get in touch with my mom.
MOLLY:
Oh, well, I’m not staying there anymore, actually. Right now I’m in this crazy town called Zip Down, Pennsylvania.
ME:
Wait, so…[Molly was staying with MY mom? No. No. Brain will not process.]
M:
You sound kinda out of it. Did you give yourself another case of amnesia, or what?
ME:
Uh, something like that. Um, so, uh, have we met?
M:
You bet we’ve met! Hey, listen. You don’t need to say any more. I know you wouldn’t have called unless you needed help, so just hang in there and I’ll be in Blackrock as soon as I can!
ME:
Wait…you don’t need to come…
M:
Yeah, it’ll be so jelly! Tell Ripper I’m coming. Maybe he and I can pick our next town together.
ME:
Seriously, all I need is my mom’s number.
M:
Well, unfortunately I don’t have it. Look, we’ll figure out your mystery together! It’ll be sooooooo peakin’!
And she said goodbye.
Man, I do not want Molly here!
Especially not if she thinks she is going to solve any mystery with ME. Or that it’ll be at all “peakin’.”
Not much I can do about it, except…solve everything before she gets here.
Later
GASP! OF!! HORROR!!!!!
What was that Molly said?
“Did you give yourself another case of amnesia, or what?”
No no no please don’t tell me I did this to MYSELF?????
What am I…evil?
please please let her be wrong please let me not be that diabolical I don’t want to be the one keeping myself in total amnesia I don’t think I can take it anymore and there’s nothing I can do I’ve trapped myself here and how can I outsmart myself?
Later
Jeez. Have been sitting here considering whether I should tear out the above entry out of sheer embarrassment. Have calmed down and reconsidered the situation, which is looking more and more interesting, and…well, more and more hopeful. Really, I should have realized all this when I first read Great-Aunt Emma’s letter. OF COURSE I did this to myself, to protect myself, as instructed by Great-Aunt Emma. And this is good news. If I created the amnesia, then surely (SURELY?) I had some kind of plan to reverse it.
Broggling harmwarts, let’s hope so.
Later
Capable of making a golem. Capable of inflicting amnesia on myself, not once but twice. NOT capable of figuring out how to keep the El Dungeon from getting knocked down.
OK. At a loss. No clue what to do. No one to ask, except…
Nah. No way. Never going to happen.
Oh, what the hey.
Um, hello, Great-Aunt Emma?
You there?
I need to ask for some help.
I could really use a clue on how to get Attikol out of town.
Nothing, huh? Not much of a talker? That’s cool.
Tell you what, since I don’t have a ouija board, we can use my notebook. I’ll shake it and then open it to a random page. You just guide me to a page that has a clue for me. And I’ll try to figure it out. Sound good?
OK here we go.
OK, Day 26, yesterday. OK, let’s see what we got. HamHawk left. And I went to the library. Saw all your patent applications. Talked to Schneider about you. OK, not sure what the clue is. Let’s try that again.
OK, Day 26. Yep. Well, Schneider is looking for your will. That’s probably part of the solution, right? Let’s try again just to be safe.
Wow, Day 26 again. OK, there is definitely something there I need to figure out.
OK, Great-Aunt Emma, I’m gonna work on that. Oh, and…this is kinda embarrassing, but Schneider says hi, and he wants to be mayor of Blackrock.
Later
Strange things are afoot at the El D!! Am very grateful for Raven, Great-Aunt Emma, and the fact that golems and ghosts get along like…two preternatural things that get along really well, instead of trying to destroy each other, or at least gnaw on each other’s souls, like preternatural things normally do. Wait, do preternatural things even have souls?—Anyway.
I had been sitting around asking Raven random questions and trying to free up my mind on what my next move should be.
ME:
Hey, Raven, are you really a raven?
Raven:
Maybe. Sort of. Iono.
ME:
Do the cats want to eat you?
R:
Hope not.
Me:
Did I make you out of dead people?
R:
Hope not.
ME:
How old are you?
R:
23. I mean, 3. I mean, 93. Iono.
ME:
Are you going to live a long time?
R:
/>
Iono.
ME:
Talked to any birds lately?
R:
No birds here.
ME:
What did Jakey’s parrot tell you?
R:
She has lice.
ME:
How am I gonna stop Attikol from knocking down the El Dungeon?
R:
Uhhhhhhh…
ME:
I mean, I’m not asking for the whole grand plan…Just a little something. A diversion would be nice, to start with.
R:
Sandstorm.
ME:
WHAT DID YOU SAY?
R:
[Flickers of superior intelligence in her face…I swear.] Sandstorm.
ME:
[Heart beating hard.] How did you get that idea? R: Iono.
ME:
[Getting very excited.] Where is Great-Aunt Emma’s will?
R:
There is no will, my dear.
ME:
AUNT EMMA, IS THAT YOU?
R:
…Huhhhhh?
ME:
Great-Aunt Emma, did you make a will?
R:
What’s a will?
ME:
GAH….
Later
Have been to the library and photocopied Great-Aunt Emma’s patent application for the amplitudinal sandstorm generator. Librarian was very reluctant even to unlock the doors for me, as he was busy packing his personal things so he can leave this town like everyone else. But I guess I was convincing when I told him it was a matter of Life and Death.