by Rob Reger
OK—more later. I have exploring to do.
Later
Excellent! What I’ve busted through to is some kind of underground passageway. Not really sure what it is for, and am navigating mostly by touch. It seems sturdy, dry, and well built. Will definitely explore it thoroughly when I have the time. And possibly a lantern. For now, am just moving blindly forward, marking my path with paper clips in case I need to find my way back.
Later
Have found32 a ladder leading up to some kind of trapdoor. Am going to investigate.
Later
Am outside!!! Am very dusty!!!!! People are staring!!!!!!!!! More later.
Later
I never thought I’d say this, but I wish I had the 1790s outfit on. I have scandalized the town with my indecent display of Armes and Legges. Before I finally found a convenient abandoned warehouse to duck into, I actually saw parents putting their hands over their children’s eyes to save them from the spectacle of the depraved immorality that is ME.
Good stuff!—But not so ideal for staying undercover.
Later
For a smallish 1790s seaside town, Seasidetown is marvelously well supplied with warehouses, particularly warehouses that don’t seem to be guarded. This one I’ve chosen to hide in is WONDROUS! Tons of delightfully mysterious unopened crates, or should I say, crates that were unopened before I came on the scene.
Here are a few of the fabulous, extraordinary treasures I’ve found:
Foodstuffs—kind of stale, but the hominy looks all right, and the potatoes are only a little sprouty.
Enough embroidery needles and thread to supply an entire modern city full of ironically crafting hipsters.
Assorted 1790s metal machine parts. Oh flamjams of ecstasy!
Assorted 1790s patent “medicines,” featuring ingredients like arsenic and mercury.
Assorted 1790s misguided inventions.
Assorted 1790s toys. Am amazed what kids of this day were making do with. I mean, are whistles even considered toys anymore?
Pamphlets on why women should be allowed to vote.
Pamphlets on why slavery should be abolished.
Pamphlets on why slavery should NOT be abolished. Oh boy.
Rats, and several tons of their droppings.
Tea, tea, tea, tea, tea.
Extremely horrible-looking medical apparatus, e.g., tools used to make the ill person bleed. Just what you need when you’re feeling poorly—heavy bleeding.
A bale of Young Ladies’ Apparel. Terrible styles, but they will save me from public outrage, arrest, and/or stoning.
Later
Am out and about in the town. I love this place. As long as I don’t have to live here permanently, that is. It is no quiet, quaint seaside village, but a nasty, bustling, urban city, full of Europeans, West Indians, Africans, miscellaneous sailors, ladies of loose morals, you name it. Lots of languages, lots of smells, lots of exciting new (old) swearwords. Have been loitering around the wharves, where most of the action is going on.
Later
Have just finished episode of said action. It was very thrilling! I was slinking along the wharves, trying to both A) take it all in and B) somehow avoid looking like a tourist, when I spotted a large gang of young hooligans staring at me. One of them, the tallest and most likely the leader, had the nerve to call me a scurvy wench. I pulled out my slingshot and pegged him between the eyes. The entire gang then whipped out their own slingshots and let fly with rocks. I did my best to hold them off, but one of the little ruffians ran around and tried to grab me from behind. Hammerfist time!33 Once I’d put that jerk in his place,34 I took shelter behind a moving carriage and shot at the gang from between the horses’ legs. Much howling ensued. No horse was harmed. Left the lads squirming in the dust and made tracks.
Later-evening
Have located Boris’ medicine show caravan in the town square. Imagine my surprise when I found out he is apparently still selling his Fever Reliever!!!!! Must get my hands on a bottle as soon as possible!!!! Unfortunately, the caravan is closed for the night and heavily guarded. Have snooped around all I dare. Found nothing. May have to come back in the daytime and just buy a bottle.
Later
Back in the tunnel, by my secret doorway into Lily’s basement. Everything seems quiet above, for now at least. Am going to make a break for the dumbwaiter in a moment. Am feeling the urgent need to get upstairs and get the rest of my relations vaccinated.
Have witnessed some things that make me less enthusiastic about the 1790s in general. I had spotted a man who looked like a doctor and started following him, curious to see what this white fever epidemic was all about. Spied in the windows of the houses he went into, and the scenes I saw were not good. I’ve got a pretty strong stomach, but there was an awful lot of eXtreme medical gore going on in people’s sickrooms. Prognosis not too good for a lot of these patients. Am concerned about Pearl and Opal and Caleb.
Later
Back upstairs. Have discussed the white fever a bit with Pearl. Apparently no one in the 1790s realizes it is spread by mosquitoes. They believe it comes from contaminated air. So, unfortunately, here we are in midsummer, and everyone has their windows open, airing their homes and letting in the deadly bloodsuckers. Also, the window screen has not been invented. Nor bug spray. Nor THE WHITE FEVER VACCINE. Sigh!!!! Luckily for Lily’s family, Boris has nailed shut all their windows, so at least they don’t have a mosquito problem.35 Am going to try to talk them into getting their shots anyway, just to be safe.
Later
Late. Cannot sleep. Am writing by the tiny light of my spy-cam so as not to wake up Lily.
Have been thinking a lot about this dry, dark fountain in Lily’s basement, and how much Boris and I both want it to start up again. Hate to admit it, but Boris and I have something else in common: We both believe someone (in my case, Lily) has the power to control that fountain. It started flowing the day she was born, and stopped two days after Boris started stealing the elixir. What are the odds?
It’s not that I think Lily’s lying to us. It’s obvious that she doesn’t have the spine to stand up to Boris after even one day of hunger. I think she just doesn’t know her own abilities yet.
Reeeeeeeeeeeeally hope this is not wishful thinking on my part . . . but I think I might be able to help.
Monday, August 9, 179O
Today's assignments:
Get relatives vaccinated-13 points
Cope with painfully diurnal sleep schedule-113 points
Get hands on Fever Reliever (LATE!!)-131,313 points
Begin homeschooling Lily in a 179Os version of Jedi training-1313 points
Caleb was just here on fresh water/chamber pot/smushed bread duty. He helped me talk Pearl and Opal into letting me vaccinate them. I really don’t think they would have agreed if he hadn’t insisted. They were nervously pooh-poohing my arguments and insisting they were safe, and I was just about to launch into a description of what I’d seen in the sickrooms—the white, ashy skin; the toxic, useless medicines; the chalky sweats; the milky vomit—but Caleb saw it in my mind and saved me the trouble.
CALEB: Mrs. Étrange, Miss Opal, this is a medical necessity. In fact [rolling up his sleeve], I shall be the first to receive the medicine.
Me: Righty right. [Cleaning the needle and Caleb’s arm with cyder.] [Cyder: the beverage best enjoyed untasted.] I’ll just count to three. One . . . [Jabbing him before I got to two.]
C: Blast!!
Pearl: Heavens!
C: Begging your pardon, madam!
Me: Who’s next?
Later
Am SLEEPY. It was not easy getting up at daybreak o’clock with Lily, Opal, and Pearl today. Have quizzed Lily on whether she wouldn’t prefer to sleep all day and stay up all night, like I usually do. She stared at me with her mouth open until I told her something was bound to fly into it. When she finally collected her wits, here’s what she had to say on the topic:
LILY: You mean,
you actually sleep in the DAYTIME?
Me: Yep. And I’m up all night. Nocturnal. Like the cats and bats and rats.
L: But . . . I don’t understand. Your mother allows this?
Me: Yeah. She’s used to it. I’m just that way.
L: [Dreamily.] Once, on a Saturday, Mother forgot to wake me, and I slept until noon. It was wonderful.
Me: [Rolling my eyes.] Really? Noon, huh? How nice of her.
L: As it turned out, she was dreadfully ill in bed, and Opal was tending her, and no one thought of me all morning.
Me: Gotcha. And did you feel like a terrible, slovenly slugabed?
L: A bit.
Me: But I bet you would really enjoy being nocturnal. Am I right?
L: In truth . . . I would LOVE it.
Me: Hey, I think you might need to explain to your mom that as one of the Dark Girls, you are naturally nocturnal, and that you need your nighttime fun, and that’s just the way it has to be.
L: Oh, I don’t think I could do that. She would be so horribly disappointed in me if I were ever to disagree with her.
Me: Lily, Lily, Lily, Lily, Lily. Your mom’s a really nice person, a lot like my own mom. In fact, I don’t think your mom is the problem at all. I think the problem is you.
L: [Sniffling. Getting vapory.] But . . . I can’t . . . It’s not my . . . I’m just a girl!
Me: B*GR!TT!NG H^FFE*R%TS!!!!!! Lily Étrange, you are a DARK GIRL. Don’t you see how PHENOM-ENAL that is? Now listen here, missy, I have HAD IT with your whiffling and vaporing. Do you realize this town is full of dying people? And that you have the power to heal them? Isn’t that kind of amazing? . . . Now go sit in the corner and think about what I said.
L: [Blinking at my outburst. Taking it all in.] No. I’m not sitting in the corner. This is MY room.
Me: Hey, yeah! Now we’re getting somewhere!
L: I used to love healing people, Cousin Emily. And Uncle Boris took that away from me. He makes me feel so helpless! Sometimes, when I think about him, I get a little . . . well . . .
Me: Enraged? Incensed? Infuriated?
L: Well, those words sound very unladylike. I’m . . . concerned. Troubled. Uneasy, Cousin Emily. And I . . . I think I’m ready to do something about it.
Me: That’s the spirit. I guess.
L: We need to summon my dark elixir, don’t we?
Me: Not “we,” Lily. YOU.
Later
It has begun. I’ve drawn on a lifetime of knowledge taken from sitting in on my mom’s yoga classes, reading biographies of Helen Keller, and watching old kung fu movies, and have constructed a program of intense mental and physical discipline for young Lily. She may or may not learn to summon her dark elixir, but flagdrak it, she WILL come out of this with a can-do attitude and improved upper body strength, or I’ll eat Enigma’s severed tail, with gritts on top!
Later
Lily is a difficult case, man. I thought we could start by toughening her up a bit physically, maybe build her endurance, but she does not have the basic confidence necessary to do a single jumping jack.36 Forget shadow boxing, or meditation in the vulture pose. We had to break for tea and go over some basic theory of girl power first. To her credit, she is very willing to learn, and it’s hardly her fault that she sees herself (and all other females) as helpless, mindless, and muscle free. She has never known anything else. It was kind of thrilling to see her expression as I told her some inspirational tales of ladies like Suzy “Bug” Ramirez, inventor of the structural assay parser;37 Dottie Winston, discoverer of the elusive aquatic cats of Venice, Italy; and Venus Fang Fang, legendary trainer of secret agents and creator of the spy diaper. Another couple of lessons like this, and she may be ready to do her first push-up.
Later
Did not realize that being a motivational trainer would be so rough on the old patience. Also, I am clearly not cut out for the job. It goes against all I believe to encourage anyone to do ANYTHING to improve themselves. But Lily’s a relative, and so obviously in need of some gentle kicking in the derriere. And, OK, I should be completely honest with myself here and admit that helping Lily also has the potential to help ME, if it improves her chances of getting her dark elixir flowing again. Still, I desperately need some quality alone time. Left Lily still practicing that push-up and snuck out via dumbwaiter into the underground passageway. Have brought a candle this time. Am ready to explore.
Later
There are doors down here! Yes, doors!!! All locked, but all unlockable (with the right tools—thank badness for paper clips, hairpins, and wire). Most of the doors lead to more passageways, but one opened onto a small rough-cut room containing an extremely old-looking table and chairs, and nothing else. FASCINATING!!!! Will bring Lily here as soon as I feel she deserves it.
Later
Have looked closely at the ground in all the tunnels, but haven’t seen any footprints except my own. There is a thick layer of dry, dusty dirt that would probably show tracks pretty well. Am happy to say I don’t think anyone has been down here in years.
Later
My candle is burning out, so will have to abandon exploring for a while. Am about to head up that ladder into town. Am planning to visit Boris’ caravan and try to buy a bottle of Fever Reliever. FINGERS CROSSED!
Later
Plans have not been going well! First off, I really should have given more thought and preparation to my first meeting with Uncle Boris. Specifically, I should have considered my resemblance to Lily, and the fact that I’m wearing her clothing, and how he might react.
Here’s how he reacted:
BORIS: LILY? Oh . . . my mistake, young lady. You look much like a young relative of mine.
Me: [Super uncomfortable.] Ha ha ha ha ha ha! How amusing. May I have a bottle of black rock, please?
B: What’s that, now? Black ROCK?
Me: [Even MORE uncomfortable.] Sorry, I meant dark elixir.
B: [Looking HIGHLY suspicious.] Dark elixir? Now where did you hear that phrase, I wonder? Perhaps
you do know my niece Lily after all?
ME: Noooooooo, I’m sure I don’t. Never heard the name before in my life.
B: [Suddenly all charm.] Are you alone, young lady? Where are your parents?
Me: [Gulping.] Sick in bed, sir. They sent me out to buy your Fever Reliever. Everyone knows it’s the only cure for the dread white fever.
B: [Distracted by flattery, as I’d hoped.] Yes, indeed it’s a miracle, a very miracle of medicinal majesty! Step right up, folks, pay your jack and take home your cure. Black Potion for White Fever!
Me: How much jack, sir?
B: Quarter jack a bottle, my dear girl. But what price can be placed on life?
I nodded and did my best to melt away into the crowd. Returned to Lily’s house, wondering how much I expected a quarter jack to be worth, and how likely Lily was to let me borrow it from her. Would like to know how many people are paying it. And, more to the point: Is it really dark elixir in those bottles?
Later-back in the house with Lily
Lily has confirmed what I suspected: She does not have a quarter jack. In fact, she said that Pearl would have to raid their life savings to get anything close to that amount. I assured her there was no need, and we would just have to get our hands on a bottle of dark elixir some other way.
Later
Lily has managed to do two complete push-ups. I took that as a victory and tried to move on to sit-ups. That’s when I discovered she wears a corset, which is a demented sort of torture implement that prevents women from bending, breathing, or surviving childbirth. Lily pointed out that it provides excellent back support. I pointed out that she should take responsibility for supporting her own back and not ask some innocent whalebones to do it for her. She was unfamiliar with the phrase “take responsibility.” Apparently no one ever tells girls of the 1790s to take responsibility for anything. Am a little jealous of them in spite of myself.
Anyway. I have insisted Lily take off the
corset and not wear it again. She finally agreed, but is clearly afeared of what Pearl will say. Next lesson will have to be Mother/Daughter Relationship!
Later
Lily is having a hard time with the current lesson, and flat-out did not believe me when I told her I address my mom as Patti. I tried to explain that she can have a relationship of mutual respect with her mother, but she seems to think the world will implode if she so much as tells her mother “no.” Am sorry to say that her neurosis is rubbing off on me, and I now suspect Aunt Pearl of being a violent raging dictator behind that sweet façade.
