The Lost Days (8 page)

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Authors: Rob Reger

BOOK: The Lost Days
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G
UY
:

   

AIEEEE! Oh. My. You gave me a turn. I sure didn’t see you standing there in the dark.

    

M
E
:

   

What were you doing following me?

    

G:

   

Excuse me. I work for the school board. I just
wanted to make sure you were safe walking around alone at night.

    

M
E
:

   

OK, that’s completely creepy, guy. Why don’t you get lost.

    

G:

   

Sorry. Yeah, it is creepy. Real sorry. Um, I’m actually the truant officer, Mr. Schneider.

    

M
E
:

   

Oh, SCHNEIDER. [Giving up hope of mysterious fascinating “Schneider”-related treasures.] I guess you live upstairs from me?

    

S:

   

Huh? Er, no, I mean, my grandmother lives upstairs from the El Dungeon, if that’s what you mean.

    

M
E
:

   

Very well, carry on.

    

S:

   

[Obviously annoyed that I am giving him permission to talk.] I’ve been notified by the police that a 13-year-old has been roaming the streets unsupervised. And I’m afraid you’ll have to report to school tomorrow.

    

M
E
:

   

Oh, I’m IN school.

    

S:

   

Uh-huh. And…do you have any followup comments to that?

    

M
E
:

   

…I’m…homeschooling…myself? And…I’m taking myself…on a field trip.

    

S:

   

Right, so. I’ll see you in the morning, then, to escort you to LeStrande Comprehensive School. Meet you at the refrigerator box at eight.

 

DOUBLEBRICKING GOBFARX! Not happy about this.

Day 7

Was woken up at broad daylight o’clock by a tapping on the fridge box. Schneider was standing outside as promised. I’m sure I was looking grumpy. Had to block out the sun with my arm.

 

    

S
CHNEIDER
:

   

Not a morning person?

    

M
E
:

   

Not a daytime person.

    

S:

   

I see. [Then we walked in silence to LeStrande Comprehensive. Once we were there, though, I kind of freaked out.]

    

M
E
:

   

Listen, Schneider. I really don’t know what to tell these people. I found myself here six days ago with total amnesia. I don’t even know my name.

    

S:

   

You’re kidding. Why haven’t you asked the police for help?

    

M
E
:

   

[No comment.]

    

S:

   

Right. Never mind. OK, look, I’ll do the talking.

 

And he was actually pretty good. He told them my name was Earwig Dungeon; Raven Dungeon was my mother; I’d just moved here from Wichita, Kansas; and I’d had a hard time recently and didn’t want to talk about myself. And that was that.

Later

BLOGYAM!!! Have got to get out of here. Am writing this in the teachers’ bathroom. Had to sneak in here since the regular
bathroom is guarded. This place is insane. More later.

ABOUT TWENTY MILLION YEARS LATER

Have been released and am on my way back to the El Dungeon. Stopped off at the minipark because I am not ready to face human beings. Am completely traumatized. Was not able to write all day due to tyranny of maniac teachers. They were not happy with me. To say the least. Apparently, I even BREATHE the wrong way, in addition to every other little thing about me being WRONG and STRANGE. Will gnaw off a limb before I go back to that place.

I was mistaken about Schneider helping me out. Telling them my name was Earwig Dungeon pretty much killed my chances of escaping notice. As soon as he left, my first teacher told me I would never be known as Earwig in her classroom and that my new name was Charlene. Charlene Ellsbree.

 

    

T
EACHER
:

   

Charlene, would you like to stand at the chalkboard and tell the class about yourself?

    

M
E
:

   

No thanks. My name is Earwig.

    

T:

   

Charlene, would you like to stay an hour after school scraping gum off desks?

 

[I stood at the chalkboard and told them all about myself.]

 

    

M
E
:

   

My name is Earwig Dungeon. I come from Wichita, Kansas. My mom and I used to own a restaurant where we served human flesh. It was
very popular. We were millionaires. I had a pony and a yacht. Now we are on the run from the FBI…

 

Received double detention for smart mouth.

It went on like this all day, with each teacher giving me a new name, threatening me with hard labor, forcing me to reinvent the story of my life, making good on their threats of hard labor, etc. Luckily there were only five teachers, and they each picked a different type of hard labor, so I’ll have variety. Not that I am serving a minute of their detentions, because once I get to my fridge box, I am never coming out of it again.

Later

They have destroyed my fridge box. This town and I are finished.

Later

Am sitting on the bus to Wichita, Kansas. Ümlaut gave me the money. Probably to impress Raven with
his gallant manners. He’s not that bad, if you overlook his cologne, and everything else about him, except for the fact that he gave me the money.

Am soooooooooooo glad to be rid of that ridiculous town, their floods of junk mail, their tickets and detentions.

Later-finally evening on the longest day of my life

Still on the bus. Bored out of my mind. Just now I was actually wishing for a little extra shot of amnesia so I could play hangman with myself. GUH!

An incredibly long time later

I don’t think I like the segment of the population that rides the Red Rabbit bus line from town to town. Let me give you just a little sample of the conversational highlights so far:

“So I sez to her I sez, just you hand over that Slim Jim, and THEN maybe I’ll give the baby back.”


“Yeah so I ended up runnin’ away from the army, but I kept the rifle, cuz hey, nice rifle.”


“You
*
@!%ing kids shut up back there
or I’ll %&
*
ing
*
&%! your @&%$ to kingdom come or my name isn’t Sofronia Peabody Chucklebottom.”


“Well, so Cousin Loretta tole me she’s gonna have a Mickey Mouse–themed wedding. I mean she’s gonna have a little Minnie and Mickey on her wedding cake and everything. So I axed her, ‘Well, Cousin Loretta, are you and LeJim gonna wear Mickey Mouse ears at the ceremony too?’ And she said, ‘Aw, Cousin Jill, come on. I am NOT that EXTREME!’”

 

Have been giving evil death glares to anyone that passes my seat, but unfortunately for me I now have a talkative seat-neighbor, this middle-aged normal guy with that middle-aged, normal, serial-killer look to him. I did my best to cut off conversation early.

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