The Lost Days

by Rob Reger

I stood beside her and kept a half-eye on Jakey’s trailer. I wanted—needed—his door to stay shut.

  Attikol looked uncomfortable seeing us. I guess he’s not in a very good position as regards Raven right about now. Seeing as there is still a building left in its original position.

  ATTIKOL:

  Raven, my darling. I was just on my way to see you.

  RAVEN:

  Attikol. I know you have not yet fulfilled your challenge.

  A:

  Wha…? Did you just…say a complete sentence?

  R:

  Attikol, you must prove your love! You must!

  A:

  Yeah, yeah, this is exciting. I’ve never seen you like this, darling.

  [Medicine show personnel were freezing in their tracks and staring at us. Just what I’d hoped for.]

  R:

  I have had a change of heart. My first challenge was far too destructive. In lieu of moving the last building in Blackrock an inch to the east, I challenge you to a game of Calamity Poker.

  [Gun and doll show staff were glancing at one another and laughing nervously.]

  A:

  Raven, surely you’re having a little joke with me. You would have to endure a terrifying blood ritual to become my honorary relative—and that’s just to learn the rules. It takes years to develop the kind of subtle talent you’d need to win a game against ME.

  [Just then, Ümlaut threw open his trailer window and leaned out, yelling at Attikol.]

  Ü:

  Come on, Attikol, we all know you’re just broke. Gor, I’ll lend you the money myself! Don’t act like you’re afraid to play her!

  [I stared nervously at Jakey’s trailer, but it was probably pretty normal for Ümlaut and Attikol to scream at each other like that…anyway, Jakey’s door didn’t open.]

  R:

  Say you’ll play just one game with me, Attikol. I don’t have to be your relative to play, do I?

  A:

  …No.

  R:

  I wouldn’t want to be your relative anyway, would I? It might…get in our way…later.

  A:

  RAWR! Now you’re talking!

  R:

  Excellent. Choose your partner and meet us at the El Dungeon in one hour.

  A:

  Wait, who will be your partner?

  R:

  My assistant, Earwig, will play with me.

  A:

  [Looking extremely pleased.] What a charming idea, my charming charming darling. And the Dealer?

  R:

  The mayor of Blackrock has agreed to play that role.

  A:

  [Looking like he could not believe his luck.] He’s still here? Wonderful. Marvelous. I’ll see you, ladies, in one hour.

  An hour later

  Attikol, Ümlaut, and their crew have just arrived at the El Dungeon. I was standing outside with Schneider, assuring him he should just be an impartial judge, follow the rules, and not interfere—just like Great-Aunt Emma told him in her letter. Anyway, Attikol REALLY made me nervous when he walked up. I guess it was the first time he’d seen the El D. since the beige came off. He came right up close to the wall, touched it, and tried scratching it with a fingernail. My heart was sure beating. But he didn’t say anything, just went inside with the others.

  I was surprised to see Curls with them, but I was stunned when he sat down next to Attikol at the gaming table. I kind of expected Attikol would knock him out of the chair for that faux pas…but nope, it looks like Curls is going to be Attikol’s partner. Am trying to see if he looks pale or anything. You know, from the terrifying blood ritual. Wonder what Attikol is thinking, having Curls be his partner? Ehh, he’s probably just trying to look gallant for Raven. Like he’s SOOOO not worried he’ll win. We will see.

  Am scribbling this behind the counter while everyone gets espresso and makes nice-nice with one another. Will have to write more later—things are about to heat up.

  Later

  Game is progressing slowly. Luckily, all eyes are on Attikol and Raven, and no one expects me to care about the outcome of the game. So no one minds that I’m writing madly in my notebook at the gaming table. I have lots of time while Attikol and Schneider discuss historical precedents, relevant contingencies, and the laws and bylaws of Calamity Poker scoring. Am trying not to worry about the fairly inevitable conclusion that we are going to lose this game.

  Am relying on my instincts to get us through this no matter what happens.

  OK. The action so far:

  Schneider called the room to order. Attikol looked a little surprised to find it was Schneider, and not his buddy the former mayor, who was overseeing the game, but what was he going to do about it? And everything pointed to him winning anyway. Since he is the only one of us who has ever actually played the game.

  Schneider put my copy of The LeStrande Guide to Calamity Poker on the table and announced that today’s game would follow the rules of gameplay and scoring as set down in the book.

  Attikol looked shocked when the book came out, and flipped through it with an expression of disbelief. “Where did this come from?” And then, under his breath: “As far as I knew, MY family wrote the only existing rulebook.”

  I spoke up. “I, uh, found it in the Dumpster behind the library. Sir.”

  Attikol laughed. “Fine. These rules are good enough. Showdown style, I presume? How many rounds?”

  We all agreed on a 13-round game, which made me feel pretty lucky. Then just as we were about to get down to some serious card playing, Attikol stood up.

  He cleared his throat and said to the whole room, “Thank you all for being gathered here today to witness this momentous occasion. As you know, I am here to honor my darling Raven’s…request…that I prove my love by besting her and her charming assistant, Earwig, in a game of Calamity Poker. A game that I take very seriously. Four hundred years ago, my ancestors won their vast riches in a game of Calamity Poker played against a corrupt tribe of magicians, who had been tormenting the local villagers, ruining their crops, killing their cattle, and so on…My noble forefathers restored honor to the villagers and burned the magicians—all but one treacherous survivor, who stole the secret source of my family’s great Mystical Power. After today, I will continue my Destiny to seek and win back that secret source of power…with the lovely Raven at my side. Let us all agree that we will stand by the rulings of our honorable judge and Dealer, Mayor Schneider. Let the game commence!”

  My eyes were watering with the strain of not laughing. Hand was cramping with the strain of getting it all down on paper. Most of the audience was yawning. The game commenced.

  Calamity Poker, as I learned earlier today from studying The LeStrande Guide, can be played Casual style or Showdown style. Casual style, which the Ümlaut crew always played, consists of as many rounds as the players feel like playing, with no ultimate winner per se, just a redistribution of wealth. In Showdown style, players agree to a certain number of rounds. The Dealer determines which team wins each round. (In our case, best of 13 rounds would win the Showdown.) Betting during the game determines what the players actually win or lose. If your hand leads the round, you can either take the pot of money, choose some other reward (subject to the Dealer’s approval), or stipulate a consequence of the ultimate win—some condition that the losing team would have to accept.

  I had handed my camera to one of the fashionistas to get our picture once we started playing. Here it is:

  Anyway. Here’s how the game has gone so far:

  ROUND 1:

  Much tension when it looked like I would actually win the first hand, but then Attikol pointed out a little-known point bonus for the rare combination of suits in his hand, and Schneider agreed. Attikol chose to stipulate a consequence of the ultimate win: If he won, Raven would join the caravan and leave with him.

  ROUND 2:

  Attikol’s hand was the clear winner. He chose to kiss Raven’s hand. Weirdo.

  ROUND 3:

 
My hand and Attikol’s tied. We went into a challenge round. Being on the losing team, I got to assign the challenge. Attikol picked Embarrassing Truth, and I asked him, “Isn’t it true that you once wore women’s under-pants on your head when no other hat was available?” He said no, but you could hardly hear him over the raucous laughter. Citing the 1886 Convention on Audience Laughter, Schneider ruled that I had led the hand, and I chose to stipulate: If we won, I would get to join the caravan. Clearly this came out of left field for Attikol, but he made a face like “Kids—who can understand them?” and we carried on.

  ROUND 4:

  Curls’ hand led. He chose to take the pot of money. Attikol was obviously annoyed.

  ROUND 5:

  My hand led. I chose to stipulate: If we lost, I would get to join the caravan. Head-scratching all around. Attikol shrugged and said, “OK, kid, guess you’ve got your bases covered.”

  ROUND 6:

  Raven’s hand led. She chose to stipulate: If Attikol’s side won, she and I would both join the caravan, and Attikol would win her heart—but they must never return to Blackrock again, because it would remind her too much of her pathetic existence before Attikol. Big smiles from Attikol.

  ROUND 7:

  Raven’s hand led. She chose to stipulate: Due to her tender feelings for Attikol, if he failed her second challenge, she would lose so much respect for him that she must insist that he never return to Blackrock. Attikol put on a noble-concerned face, but I felt he was getting a little anxious. And we were now up by one hand.

  ROUND 8:

  Very close round, but Attikol managed to lead it, finally convincing Schneider that, considering our position in the lunar cycle, Rule 456.2.9 took clear precedence over Rule J78.43. He chose to request a 30-minute intermission for coffee. Schneider approved it. We took a break.

  Later

  Am worried at the way things are headed. Very worried.

  “Keep an ear on Attikol,” I whispered to Raven as she went behind the counter to make espresso. Attikol, meanwhile, seemed to be idly chatting with his crew, but in a minute or two I saw one of them, a tall guy in a vintage fedora, casually slip out the door.

  I hunkered down next to Raven’s stool and whispered to her.

  ME:

  Raven, please tell me your ears are bionic.

  Raven:

  My ears are bionic.

  ME:

  I hope you’re not just saying that. Did you hear what Attikol said to Vintage Fedora Guy?

  R:

  He said, “Get Jakey.”

  SWEARWORD!! I had to intercept Vintage Fedora Guy somehow.

  Yes. Somehow.

  I stood up. Ümlaut was on the other side of the counter, waiting for his cappuccino and looking glum.

  I was desperate.

  ME:

  Hey, Ümlaut. How’d you like to do me a very small favor? I’ll, uh, put in a good word for you with Raven.

  ÜMLAUT:

  Want me to cheat or something? Tell you Attikol’s cards? Not going to happen.

  ME:

  Nothing like that. Just go keep that tall guy, the one in the vintage fedora, away from Jakey’s trailer.

  Ü:

  What’s this all about?

  ME:

  Oh…I…[Nuggets! Could not think of anything.] I…uh, this is kind of awkward…

  Ü:

  Spit it out, kid.

  [Frantically I thought, “What would Molly do?” And then I knew.]

  ME:

  I just don’t want Jakey to know…that…[Taking a deep breath. Feeling unspeakably dirty.] I have feelings for Curls. Because Jakey…cares about me, and…you know, he’s so young, and so sensitive…I want to tell him myself…I don’t want him to have to see it in someone else’s mind. I know YOU understand. Right?

  [Right. An extremely sappy look came over Ümlaut’s face.]

  Ü:

  Yeah, kid, I know. Love…hurts. It hurts! Look, don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of it.

  And he hustled out without his cappuccino.

  Fingers crossed (story of my life as I know it), I went back to the gaming table, trying to console myself that I hadn’t exactly LIED. I mean, I DO have feelings for Curls. Feelings of annoyance and irritation, mainly, spiked with occasional pangs of pity.

  Later

  Coffee break has just ended. No sign of Jakey, Ümlaut, or Vintage Fedora Guy. Our game commenced.

  ROUND 9:

  Curls’ hand led. And all because Schneider overlooked Rule 78.b.9, governing the fluctuation of point value in the Ruby suit in conjunction with the Royal Pickaxe. I thought about speaking up, but in the end, I decided it wasn’t worth letting Attikol know I had any interest in the game. Curls went for the money again. Attikol gave him a mighty glaring. I guess Curls doesn’t care too much about the health of his kneecaps.

  ROUND 10:

  Attikol’s hand led. He chose to stipulate: If he won, he and Raven would be married within a week. Raven gave him a spot-on sweet, demure smile. I congratulated myself for some first-rate programming.

  ROUND 11:

  Raven’s hand led. She chose to whisper in Attikol’s ear. I don’t know what she said, but I bet it was one of Molly’s lines, cuz it sure made him blush.

  Round 12:

  Raven’s hand led. She chose to give Attikol a kiss on the cheek. He was in heaven.

  ROUND 13:

  I was dealt the rare Blank Slate card, which allowed me to choose the suit and value of the card. Had to ponder it quite a bit before I decided to draw in the symbol for the 13 of Crows, hoping that wouldn’t make Attikol too suspicious, even though he would immediately notice the point bonus I would earn in combination with my other card and those on the table.

  Like I expected, there was a pretty furious debate when I laid it down, but in the end, when all possible points were tallied and retallied, and Attikol had run out of alternate interpretations to argue, Schneider ruled that Curls’ hand and mine had tied. I graciously offered to let Curls assign the challenge, and he accepted. I picked Feats of Strength, Skill, and Endurance. And Curls gave us our challenge: Raven would have to fly from the roof of the El Dungeon, or we’d forfeit the round. And therefore the game.

  Stunned silence, and then laughter, backslapping, and a general release of tension, as everyone in the room assumed victory was Attikol’s.

  SCHNEIDER:

  [Looking mournful.] Raven and Earwig, Rule 20.c.34 clearly states that ALL challenges must be met, no matter how difficult, or you must forfeit the round.

  ME:

  It’s OK.

  RAVEN:

  [Nice and loud.] I accept the challenge!

  ATTIKOL:

  You can’t! Raven, darling, you don’t need to.

  R:

  I accept the challenge!

  ME:

  [To Schneider.] I guess she’s accepting the challenge.

  S:

  I think she’s…confused. Or…maybe I’M confused. I don’t really know if you want to win or lose, but if she tries the challenge, she’s probably going to…[Drawing his finger across his neck.]

  ME:

  [Shrugging.] It’s her call. I’m just her assistant.

  Amid general confusion, low-level panic, and loud complaints, everyone relocated outside except for Raven, who appeared a few minutes later on the roof. Attikol was smacking Curls about the head and neck, growling threats on his life if anything happened to Raven. And still no Ümlaut, Jakey, or Vintage Fedora Guy in sight.

  Raven stood at the edge of the roof, three stories up. My hands were sweating. I kept thinking about how she said it didn’t hurt when all the bones in her arms were crushed. I kept thinking, “I can rebuild her.” I kept thinking, “Should I stop her? What is my plan? Do I HAVE a plan?”

  It was windy up there, three stories high. Raven’s long wig streamed out behind her, and her skirt and cape billowed and whipped. It was all very dramatic.

  She just stood there. And suddenl
y I had a terrible thought.

  What if Raven COULD fly?

  We would win the game, and Attikol would have to leave Blackrock forever, but…Wouldn’t Attikol then suspect her of being his ancestral enemy?

  Was Attikol smart enough to suspect her?

  Was Attikol too smitten to care?

  Raven stood there at the edge of the roof. As if waiting for instructions.

  Just then Ümlaut staggered up to me. He’d been in a fight, it looked like—bloody nose, cuts on his cheekbones and eyebrows, red splotches that would soon be bruises, and a missing tooth. Clothes all torn up and dirtied. He grinned at me and gave me a thumbs-up. “You’re all good,” he said. “Your Fedora Guy—he never made it to Jakey.”

  I pointed wordlessly up at Raven, and watched the blood drain out of Ümlaut’s face. Several of his friends promptly started competing to tell him the events of the past hour, and it looked like he was ready to do some more fighting, if he could decide whom to fight; but none of that mattered, because good or bad, I’d made my decision.

  I stepped forward out of the crowd and yelled up, “FLY, RAVEN, FLY!”

  She threw back her arms and leaped into the air.

  Half of the crowd covered their eyes. The other half looked down, where they expected her to come crashing to the ground. Schneider and Ümlaut and I kept our eyes on Raven. We saw her rise gracefully off the roof and up into the air. We saw her pirouette and dive. We saw her do majestic, soaring figure eights in midair. And once everyone had seen, and the whole crowd was gasping, and swearing, and calling on their ancestors for deliverance, she came elegantly back down to earth and lighted on the ground in front of Attikol.