Stranger and Stranger

by Rob Reger

  Our conversation went a little bit like this:

  ME: Binary Larry.

  BINARY LARRY: WASSSSSSSUH. November December.

  ME: [?????] Uh, yeah. Can I trade you a north wall for a south wall? It’s important to my mural.

  BL: Sure thing, NovDec.

  ME: Are you calling me “NovDec”?

  BL: November December. I heard that’s your new nickname.

  ME: WHAT NOW? Where did you hear that?

  BL: My man Froggy, he told me you’re taking down June July.

  ME: [Slight bleeding from brain.] WHAT IN GACK’S NAME ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?

  Long story short: When not at home making MY life miserable, EvilOne has apparently been battling the current Ms. Popularity, a girl named June July (Yeah. No joke. Her sister’s named Nicole Penny) for…popularity. POPULARITY. Kids have started calling EvilOne November December, and it sounds like she’s a pretty strong contender for the throne.

  Had to choke back barf as I was listening to all this. Also, am having trouble believing that someone who is even 50% Emily Strange would go after popularity.

  Unless…

  Unless popularity serves her evil motives, that is.

  Binary Larry doesn’t seem at all perturbed that I’m apparently leading two wildly different lives. I could tell him there’s this evil version of me running around, BUT, I can foresee all the tiresome sentences it would take me to explain the whole complex mess to him, and would rather just let things be.

  Per Binary Larry, “I” rank as follows with the skate crowd:

  #2 most hardcore skater in town (!!!!) —second only to local legend Fishballs, who has ruled for the past 5 years.

  #1 best at naming new tricks.

  #1 most creative swearing.

  #13 best hair.

  #3 best dressed.

  #1 best at modifying skateboards.

  #1 quickest with revenge noogies, headlocks, groin kicks, and insults.

  #1 most knowledgeable about punk bands that existed before anyone’s parents were born.

  #3 most well-supplied with spray paint.

  #1 most willing to use spray paint on public surfaces.

  #5 best tattoos. (Since when do we have tattoos?)

  #4 most fun, and rising. (Since when do we have fun with people?)

  #3 best conversationalist. (Since when do we have conversations with people?)

  I feel…weird inside.

  Later

  OK—as if the night has not been unsettling enough, I just had Bizarre Conversation #2 with Binary Larry. My mural had taken yet another turn, this time onto a west-facing wall. Went in search of him one more time. Our chat was as follows:

  ME: Dude, sorry, can I take a west wall?

  BINARY LARRY: A west wall, uh, uh, uh, the thing is, I need those walls.

  ME: You need them?

  BL: We had an agreement, man.

  ME: K, that’s cool. [Turning to go.]

  BL: Hey, wait a minute, I gotta ask you something.

  ME: [Turning back.] [Waiting for his question.]

  BL: [Sweating.] [Gulping.] Here’s the thing. The thing is…

  ME: [Waiting…]

  BL: The thing is, I think you’re….….……..….….….….…. cool. And, so, like, if I told you something…really, really secret…about the west walls, would you promise me you would, y’know, never act on that knowledge?

  ME: [Heart filling with a greedy, panicky joy of curiosity. Preparing smooth, reassuring lie so BL would spill his information.]…No.

  BL: [Taken aback.] No? You wouldn’t promise me?

  ME: [Flustered.] Wait, that’s not what I wanted to say at all. I meant to say, uh…guh…plugh…I mean…C’mon, just tell me, man, PLEEEEEASE!

  BL: [Giving me extremely weirded-out look.] First promise!

  ME: Yuh…nuh…I can’t!

  BL: [Cold look in his eyes.] Forget you, man, the west walls are mine.

  Later

  Crawled out of the sewers and slunk home. Raven and I are now hunkered down in bushes outside my house. Am shocked and disappointed that I could not pull off the simplest of lies. How hard would it have been to say “Yes”? When the rewards were obviously rich? When I cannot afford to make Binary Larry, of all people, mad at me? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

  Also, WHAT IS UP WITH THE WEST WALLS?

  Later

  Went inside for sandwich provisions and ran into the kitchen without proper concern for booby traps. Was painfully shocked by an electrified metal plate in front of the refrigerator. EvilOne will SUFFER!!!!!!!!!

  OK, back to the sewer.

  June 24

  booby traps set, 0; sewer secrets discovered, 0

  Woke up at nightfall and snuck home. Hid in the bushes until I saw EvilOne leave, then crept in (CAREFULLY). (Side note: Had better get things settled at home soon. Am spending way too much time hiding in bushes.) Spent some time attempting to come up with painful and/or humiliating booby trap for EvilOne, but it went nowhere. Finally settled for downloading pictures of EvilOne screaming at her blond hair in the mirror. It really DOES pay to install hidden video cameras in every room of your home! Then I programmed the Oddisee so that the pictures would pop up on the screen every five minutes. Also papered bedroom walls with large printouts of said photos. Am hoping she takes them down promptly. They give me the heebie-jeebies.

  OK—am out of here—cannot afford to have her catch me here!

  Later

  Back in the secret sewer. Have begun my investigation of the west walls. They look exactly like all the other walls. Have thumped them and heard nothing unusual. Exploration was cut short by prompt arrival of Binary Larry. Am now noticing that he almost always shows up about ten minutes after I do, regardless of the time of night. Have apologized to him about last night as best I could. He seemed ready to forgive and forget, but not to give up information about the west walls. We mostly left each other alone except when he came to ask me for a safety pin.

  ME: Yeah, I have safety pins. What size?

  BINARY LARRY: It’s for my shirt. I lost a button.

  ME: [Taking miscellaneous items out of pockets and spreading them out. Looking for button-sized safety pin.]

  BL: You are the girl with Everything Possible in her pockets.

  ME: You don’t even know. OK, here you go—hey, cool buttons.

  BL: Thanks. They’re kind of sentimental too. I’m hating that I lost one.

  ME: [Silently making mental notes on BL’s cool buttons. Should find or craft him a replacement. Must try to get back in his good graces.]

  Later—at home, getting provisions

  Snuck into the house very cautiously, but EvilOne is nowhere to be seen. She’s been spending a lot of time out of the house lately. Am hoping she is working on her grand popularity takeover and not her grand plan to preemptively destroy me. Am now sitting nice and cozy at the Oddisee and trying to work on plans for A) reversal of psychic damage to townspeople, and B) solution to my doppelgänger problem.

  Cats have been walking casually into the bedroom, seeing me at the Oddisee, hissing, and running away. Is not helping my self-esteem any. Am clutching FakeCat for some small comfort. Is not helping my typing any.

  Later

  OK. I am getting nothing accomplished because A) pictures of blond EvilOne keep popping up and making me laugh, and B) I cannot stop obsessing over where EvilOne is and what mischief she is up to. Have never in my life given so much thought to another person and it does not sit well. Let me state again that she will feel my wrath.

  Later

  Have thought it over and am not really sure what irreplaceable skills I have to make EvilOne hesitate before doing away with me. Here’s a short list of what I’ve got that she doesn’t:

  Tendency to cry whenever I think of the hopelessness of getting rid of EvilOne. Or when I see a sad commercial on TV. Or when someone looks at me funny.

  Guitar skills. Must remember my guitar skills.

  Crippli
ng need for cat affection.

  Basic respect for my mother and my golem.

  Strong need for solitude/intolerance of people.

  Seeming inability to lie. Very inconvenient.

  Working knowledge of Great-Aunt Millie.

  Enjoyment of a good, terrifying nightmare.

  Desire to spend evenings painting a sewer rather than doing something useful, like getting rid of EvilOne.

  Artistic talent, based on the fact that EvilOne didn’t do a single drawing in my journal in two days.

  Um.

  ….

  OK, well, art skills, guitar skills, Great-Aunt Millie…

  Will cling to those for now.

  Later

  VERY close call a few minutes ago when I heard EvilOne’s footsteps on the stairs. Had to throw my cast out the window and jump after it. Am reluctant to go back to the sewer. I miss the comforts of home, man. Am once more hiding in the bushes near the house, trying to get tough with myself and figure out how all this is going to end.

  13 Ways All This Could End:

  One of us dies.

  One of us leaves.

  We both stay, but she agrees to bleach her hair again and keep out of my room.

  I wake up in the hospital, having been in the grips of a terrible fever dream for the past 17 days.

  One of us is adopted by Gigi and Bebe. (Hopefully EvilOne.)

  My mother reveals her diabolical prank on me.

  My holodeck session ends.

  A more interesting drama arises and we forget to be enemies.

  Every other human being on Earth is suddenly vaporized in an extreme solar event, and the only reason we are saved is that we’re holed up in the sunproof bedroom, and we agree to each take one hemisphere of the world as our private territory.

  I program Raven to kidnap EvilOne, knock her unconscious, drive her across the country, and leave her in some random town.

  EvilOne and I make an appearance on a talk show and let the audience decide our fate.

  EvilOne and I hug and learn.

  We are both killed by a natural disaster of some sort. You know: global flood, asteroid hitting the Earth, return of the dinosaurs…I might prefer this to hugging and learning.

  Later

  I AM BRILLIANT!

  Maybe.

  The Ratts and the 12th Street Toughs are vandalizing all of the town’s cars tonight. Am going to frame EvilOne for doing it. (Somehow.) Then will turn her in to the police. With any luck, she will be locked away long enough for me to make a plan to neutralize her FOREVER!!!!!

  Am headed back to the sewer for Raven.

  Later

  I hid my cast in yet another friendly clump of bushes, then Raven and I roamed the town, and she videotaped me pretending to knife tires. Am on top of the world!

  Never underestimate the power of positive revenge!

  Later—almost dawn

  I could not face another day of sleeping in the sewer, so I snuck into the house and woke Mom up. Begged her to let me hide out in her room for the day and not to tell my doppelgänger. She said OK, but there was a lot of eye-rolling. She clearly does not see the danger I am in!

  June 25

  royal disasters, 1; strategies for extricating self, 0

  Yobbing hamdacks, what a mess!!!!!

  Was woken up at noon by a very upset Mom. Came out to find police, Venus Fang Fang, Bebe, Raven, and EvilOne sitting in the living room.

  Everyone was yelling at once, but eventually I got the following sorted out:

  Some concerned townsperson videotaped Raven videotaping me knifing tires last night.

  But of course, everyone thinks it was EvilOne because I wasn’t wearing a cast.

  Venus Fang Fang also videotaped EvilOne doing some extravagant vandalism of her fence last night.

  But of course, everyone thinks it was me because EvilOne WAS wearing a cast.

  EvilOne and I are both taking the Fifth.

  I was somehow introduced to everyone as “Jemily,” while EvilOne got to go by “Emily.” Grrrr!

  I feel, and hope EvilOne feels, that I got her better than she got me.

  But I am not happy that she must now know my leg is healed.

  There has been no mention of the ill-fated ribbon-cutting ceremony or any link to either of us.

  Bebe has been sternly reprimanded for not keeping Raven under better control.

  If Raven is caught in mischief again, she is looking at some time spent in institutional learning facilities.

  EvilOne is probably not going to be incarcerated, which is bad, but she’s looking at some heavy community service: namely, personally replacing hundreds of knifed tires. Which is good. It should keep her occupied for a while.

  And I have been sentenced to repaint Venus Fang Fang’s fence, starting in half an hour SHARP.

  Sounds mild, but A) it’s a very long fence, and B) I have done my tour of duty with white paint for the year, thank you very much, and C) the worst part is, it looks like Venus Fang Fang is planning to supervise me the whole time. Oh no, pardon me, that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that D) Venus Fang Fang is a TALKER. Is there anything more poisonous than a talker? No. No, there isn’t. Unless it’s that E) the talker is supervising someone who is not a talker. Namely me.

  Hours later

  I no longer feel that EvilOne is getting the worse punishment. Here is a brief rundown of things I did in eight hours at Venus Fang Fang’s house today:

  Unwillingly heard well-meant piece of useless advice on life from Venus Fang Fang—345 million, zillion times.

  Wished for death, or at least sudden deafness—345 million, zillion times.

  Smudged self with nasty stinky white paint—23 times.

  Wished that paint smelled more like freshly baked cinnamon rolls—35 times.

  Amused self by silently saying the word “paint” until it lost all meaning—84,572,957 times.

  Pondered clever and excruciating revenge for EvilOne—111 times.

  Hoped that Venus Fang Fang might suddenly succumb to laryngitis—48 times.

  Excused self to take extended bathroom break—13 times.

  Responded to Venus Fang Fang’s advice on managing my overactive bladder—0 times.

  Responded “No fangs, I’m good,” when asked if I wanted a snack—2 times.

  Cheered self by reflecting that I was indirectly gaining valuable karate skills—7 times.

  Wished for Tom Sawyer to come by so I could trick him into taking over my work—once.

  Hoped that black cats might come along and mark freshly painted white fence as their territory—4 times.

  On the upside, as I’ve mentioned, Venus Fang Fang has a very strong accent of some sort, which made for unintentional comedy when she told me that she is the autha of a book called Defeating Your Enema. That was when I spoke two of my four sentences of the day.

  ME: Why would an enema need defeating? You could just…not use it.

  VENUS FANG FANG: Your ENEMA, chald, your NAMESIS, your ADVARSARY.

  Pretty funny…Also, note to self: Tomorrow, must see if I can get Venus Fang Fang sidetracked into giving me some advice on defeating MY enemy. It probably has to do with defeating the enemy inside you, or hugging and learning, or some such nonsense, but it’s worth a shot. After all, this IS a woman who managed to disable a Vanian-Jugg circuit and whose backyard alarm system gave me pause for, like, a full fifteen minutes.

  OK, am going to the sewer to sleep.

  Later—nighttime at last!

  Hid in my favorite bushes outside our house and waited for EvilOne to leave, then snuck in and went up to my bedroom. Triggered some kind of tripwire on the staircase, and several million thumbtacks shot out at me. Grabbling frumdarks!!!!!!!

  Later

  Have been enjoying some alone time in the room, tinkering with the Oddisee and checking on my plants. Man, I loooooooooove my lovely room. Cannot believe EvilOne has me on the run. Have GOT to come up with brilliant pla
n to get her out of my world.

  Magic 8 Ball has not been a ton of help lately, but I can’t help reaching for it at times like this…

  Hmm. I just asked the 8 Ball, “What should I do about EvilOne?” and its answer was, “SPIRIT ELDERS HOLD THE ANSWERS!”

  Bizarre! Am headed upstairs to visit Great-Aunt Millie.

  Later

  Am dumbfounded at the depths of the evil of the EvilOne!!!!!!!!

  It was obvious that EvilOne had been up in the attic already. Looks like she had some kind of temper tantrum and splashed black paint all over the place. It took me a long time to find Great-Aunt Millie. I finally noticed a barrel full of broken glass and dead leaves that had no business being there. I tipped it over and scrabbled through the broken glass until I found Great-Aunt Millie.

  She wasn’t good. She couldn’t even talk. I pulled her out of the glass and tried to give her a little comfort if I could by cradling her in my arms. I had to be very gentle to get her to relax on my lap. She was not too visible anymore except for a shimmer in the air like heat writhing. Occasionally a face sharpened up out of the shimmering air. You could see the resemblance to me, and to Patti, and maybe even to Mystery, if I’m going to be honest.

  I asked her what happened, tried so hard to give her a little of my energy if that would help. And we did manage to communicate a bit. I knew I wasn’t really hearing her with my ears or seeing her with my eyes; it was all a direct feed into my brain from her essential energy, still vital enough to present herself in a way I could understand.