Dark Times Read online

  Later

  Practiced Krav Maga with Raven for a while. Am very glad I happen to have a super strong, well-calibrated golem to practice martial arts with. I can fight as hard as I want with no risk of hurting her, and she is well tuned enough these days to make a really tough sparring opponent. It’s kind of a shame I’m philosophically opposed to violence, because I am getting to be kind of a badass at this stuff. Trainers at Fight Club are sure to be impressed!!!!

  Later

  Have spent a little quality time with the old Magic 8 Ball just to get an idea of what this school year holds for me. It’s a regular back-to-school ritual with me. Have been compiling school-related questions over the years. Here they are, with the 8 Ball’s responses:

  Will I be expelled this year? Better not tell you now.

  Will I learn a lot? It is decidedly so.

  Will I like my new teacher(s)? Outlook good. For a change.

  Will my grades be good? Like you care.

  Will I be in school long enough to get my desk properly booby-trapped? Concentrate and ask again.

  Will I be forced to resort to threats of violence to protect myself from fearsome bullies? Signs point to yes.

  Will I make enemies among the school administration? Don’t get your hopes up.

  Will I craft a Me-Golem who can attend classes in my place? Not flabbering likely!

  Will I need to invent a new disease to avoid finishing out the school year? My sources say no.

  Will I spend much time in detention? As if!

  Am I gonna find a substitute for black rock? That question has nothing to do with school. Ask again later.

  Will History of the Strange Family destroy me with boredom? Cannot predict now.

  Will Mom be the kind of teacher who accepts weird science projects as substitutes for book reports? Don’t make me laugh!!!

  Sept. 4

  Today's assignments:

  Return Said Student's ID (LATE!!)-3 points

  Make copy of Mom's house key (VERY LATE!!!)-13 points

  Read selected works of Hadewijch of Antwerp-13 points

  Wrangle juicy tidbits of family gossip out of Mom and Great-Aunt Millie-113 points

  Just finished second session of Strange Family 101. Tonight we began an overview of Great-Aunts Through the Ages. And, OK, it wasn’t COMPLETELY dry and tedious. It turns out that every hundred years or so in the history of my family, there is an Aunt with some kind of cool talent. Great-Aunt Millie, for example: She died in 1761, but she’s been able to stick around this world ever since. (Bog only knows why. Personally, I can’t wait to go explore the next world when my time comes.) Anyway, she’s been piecing together the family history for centuries, and has even met both of the Aunts who lived after her: Great-Aunt Lily (1777–1790) and Great-Aunt Emma (1887–1992).

  Note-taking was required. Here are some highlights:

  The earliest Aunt that Mom and Aunt Millie know about was Great-Aunt LaRue, who was born in the 660s. No, not the 1960s, the 1860s, or even the 1660s . . . the 660s. Whew.

  None of the Aunts was ever known to get married or have children. That’s why they’re the Aunts and not the Grandmas. Duh.

  Like I said, they all had some kind of remarkable talent. For example: Great-Aunt Emma LeStrande was able to crystallize the liquid black rock that flowed under her house in order to build and sculpt with it.

  Great-Aunt Melisende Forestiero had the ability to communicate with the spirit world.

  Great-Aunt Leah Ciudat was said to levitate herself and others at will.

  Great-Aunt Camilla Underlig could call down all sorts of weather with a snap of her fingers.

  Great-Aunt Mildred Különös spoke the secret languages of animals, plants, and even minerals.

  Great-Aunt Amelia Merwürdig painted incredible portraits of people that revealed their future.

  Great-Aunt Eleda Märklig made transcendent music on instruments she crafted of seed husks and petals.

  And Great-Aunt Lily Étrange was known to heal animals and people of whatever ailed them.

  As far as anyone knows, there has only been one Great-Aunt alive at any one time.

  But it’s not necessarily true that there is always one living. Mom does not know of one alive today.

  Most of the Aunts have lived to be very old—usually over 90, and often over 100—with the exception of Great-Aunt Lily, who died of white fever when she was only 13.

  So yeah. I guess the family history’s not totally without interest. I mean, I definitely wouldn’t mind hearing more about that levitation trick of Great-Aunt Leah’s. Or Great-Aunt Emma’s black rock, and where I can get some more. Oh wait, scratch that. I know exactly where to get more: back at Great-Aunt Emma’s old house in Blackrock! Hmm. Road trip may be in order. Hey—call it a field trip, write a report on my experience, and I have the makings of some extra credit here.

  Later

  Have blown off homework and spent some glorious hours bumming around Duntzton by night. Tested my newly crafted tranquilizer blowgun on a few of the neighborhood dogs. Brilliant!!!! From now on, canines all over town will be enjoying sweet dreams while the felines and I explore their backyards in peace. Nothing of note so far in those backyards, I’m sorry to report, but that doesn’t make it any less rewarding.

  Later-back at home

  Sun almost up. Real pooped. Going to sleep.

  Sept. 5

  Today's assignments:

  Exercise 23 in Theory of Complex Numbers-13 points

  Return Said Student's ID (VERY LATE!!)-3 points

  Make copy of Mom's house key (EXTREMELY LATE!!!)- 13 points

  Fingerpaint portraits of Raven, the Oddisee, and other major inventions-13 points each

  Complete Mom's study questions on Great-Aunts Through the Ages-13 points

  Have spent the hours between dinner and Strange 101 doing nothing but homework. Man. Had I realized homeschooling myself was going to cut this deeply into my nighttime- bumming-around-town routine, I would not have scheduled such a heavy course load. May have to take an incomplete in Fingerpainting this semester. Ahahahhhahaaahahhhaha.

  Later

  OK—I’ll admit it: Strange 101 has gotten more interesting. Great-Aunt Millie taught class again tonight. Possibly due to the study question I wrote, she talked mostly about Great-Aunt Lily. Not too much is known about her—Aunt Millie saw her only once. She lived her entire short life on the East Coast, in a small seaside town called Seasidetown, along with her mother, Pearl, and her sister, Opal. As we know, Lily’s unusual talent was healing.13 And she died in an epidemic of white fever that wiped out a third of her town’s population. After that, Pearl and Opal moved to Salem, Massachusetts, where Opal married and raised her family.

  I would have left it at that if Great-Aunt Millie had just addressed my study question in the first place, but ten o’clock rolled around and I still hadn’t gotten an answer. Mom was yawning and getting cranky, so she went off to bed while Great-Aunt Millie and I wrapped things up.

  ME: [Raising my hand like a good little pupil. Despite being the only pupil in the room.] Great-Aunt Millie? I don’t think we’ve discussed my study question.

  Great-Aunt Millie: [Looking uncomfortable.] Ssssorrrry, my dearrrr, what wasssss yourrrrr quessssstion againnnnn?

  ME: Why did Great-Aunt Lily die of white fever, when she could supposedly heal people? Seriously, don’t you think that’s kind of odd?

  GAM: [Looking even more uncomfortable.] Welll, yessssssss, my dearrrr, that hassss neverrrrr made sensssse to meeeee eitherrrrr.

  Me: Weren’t you around? At least in spirit?

  GAM: Ohhhhhh noooooooooo, I was in Reeeeno.

  Me: You . . . were . . . in . . . Reno.

  GAM: Welllll, it wassssn’t Reeeno yet, but yesss, Cousin Pauliiiine had a rannnch out there in Nevaaada at that timmme. Of courrrrse, it wasssssn’t Nevaaada yet, eitherrrrr. Maybeeee next weeeeek I’ll give a lessssson on the Cousins. They’re so much more . . . colllllllorfu
llllll . . . than the Auntssss.

  ME: Really.

  GAM: Youuuu won’t belieeeeve the storieees I can tellllll about Cousin Billieeeee and her honky-tonk giraffffffe circusssss!

  Me: Aunt Millie, you’re not changing the subject, are you?

  GAM: Cerrrrrtainly not. We were discusssssssing Reeeno, I belieeeeve?

  Me: No, we were discussing how SUSPICIOUS it is that Great-Aunt Lily died of white fever! Don’t you think so?

  GAM: Yesss . . . yesssss, it is suspicioussss.

  Me: All right! Now, look, Aunt Millie, let’s be honest with each other. I’m not the world’s dumbest kid, and you’re not the world’s smoothest liar. Are you keeping something from me? Because you should know by now, that’s only going to make me more interested in finding out.

  GAM: Oh noooo, dearrr. Youuuu’ve hearrrrd it alllll. I’ve neverrrr understood why Lilllly didn’t heal herrrrself. Howeverrrr . . . I willl add thissss: Everrr since herrr death, “white feverrrr” has meant something awfulllll to the Darrrrrk Auntsssss.

  Me: [Feeling a chill.] Did you say “Dark Aunts”?

  GAM: [Flustered.] Ohhhhh . . . yessss. Great-Auntssss, you callll us.

  Me: But you said “Dark Aunts” like it was a title. Is there something dark about them?

  GAM: Yessss . . . but this mussst be betweeeeeen you and meeeee. Your motherrrr wouldn’t understand.

  Me: [Getting downright intrigued. Despite myself.] No problem, Aunt Millie. And what was that about white fever? What does it mean to the Dark Aunts?

  GAM: It’s a metaphorrrr, my child. [Her voice dropping to a haunted whisper.] Like . . . sunsssshine bursssting into a darrrrrkened roooooom.

  Me: [Shuddering.] Ugh! Yes. I understand. You don’t get the blues, you get the whites.

  GAM: There’s just one otherrrrr thinnnng I recalllll about Lily . . .

  Me: What other thing?

  GAM: It’s only a familllllly rumorrrr . . . most likely, compleeeetely untrue. How could it beeeeee true?

  Me: [Now dying of curiosity.] Great-Aunt Millie, please tell me. I HAVE to know!

  GAM: [Silently studying me a while before she spoke.] Yes . . . after all, you are thirteeen, and this IS your historrrry. Very wellllll, then. They say it wassss another Darrrrk Aunt who caused Lily’ssss death.

  Me: [Shocked. Horrified.] But why? HOW?

  GAM: Nooooo onnnne knowsssss! But it’ssss only a rumorrrr. There isssss absolutely noooooo evidence for it.

  Me: Except that the OFFICIAL reason for her death is total hooey.

  Later

  Had to stop writing back there when Mom came into the room and interrupted us.

  ME: Sup, Patti. Thought you were in bed.

  Mom: I was, but then I thought of something . . . You guys still talking about Great-Aunt Lily?

  Me: Yeah, and how weird it is that she wouldn’t have healed her own white fever. Why? You got any ideas?

  M: No, but I might have something better. You know, I’ve got heirlooms from a few of the Aunts, like a lock of Great-Aunt Emma’s hair, that Polynesian tiki idol from Great-Aunt Amelia, and Great-Aunt Millie’s collection of antique anatomy textbooks.

  Me: That’s nice, Patti. Now, what does that have to do with Aunt Lily?

  M: Well, the heirloom I have from her is by far the weirdest.

  Me: [Feeling a growing tingle of excitement.] Ooooh, that IS better. What is it? Where is it?

  M: It’s a . . . well, I don’t really know WHAT it is exactly.

  Me: Wherewherewherewherewhere!

  M: Cool your jets, you’ll hyperventilate. It’s in a crate in the basement. Your grandmother used to keep it in a terrarium, but it always gave me the supercreeps, so I packed it away where I didn’t have to look at it.

  So we went down to the basement and scrounged around among the boxes we had just moved from Silifordville. It took a while, but Mom eventually found it: a small wooden crate stenciled LILY éTRANGE.

  Mom said she didn’t care to see the fabled Heirloom again, so I took it up to my room for further investigation. I brought Aunt Millie with me to see what she thought of it.

  I didn’t even need a crowbar to open the crate—the wood was practically disintegrating around the rusted-out nails. I pulled the lid off with my hands, and then—I admit it—I’m not ashamed—I screamed bloody murder and jumped back in a panic. Because inside was a twitching, lashing, LIVING CAT TAIL!

  When I caught my breath again, I looked over at Aunt Millie to find out if she was seeing what I was seeing. I eventually found her under my pillow.

  ME: What do you think? What is it? Is it real? Is it magic? Is it haunted?

  Great-Aunt Millie: [Sounding a little hysterical.] Fffffff! Bzzzzzzzzz! Hhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrr!

  ME: Gahhhh! Aunt Millie! Help me out, here. What is this thing?

  GAM: Ssssssssssmmm! Eeesssssnnnnnn- nnnlllllll? Oooozzzzzzuuuunnnnnnnnnnnnn . . .

  Me: [Sighing.] OK, you’re overstimulated, let’s get you back in your shoe box for the night. We’ll try this again tomorrow.

  Later

  Further observations on the creepy cat tail: It does not appear to be mechanical. It seems to behave just as it would if still attached to a cat. Sabbath, Miles, and NeeChee all hissed and ran at the sight of it, but Mystery seems strangely attracted to it. She picked it up out of the crate and hopped up on my bed, and is now snuggled up with the gross little thing, grooming it and purring. Ugh! I may need to sleep in the hammock tonight.

  Later

  Cannot stop thinking about the mystery of Lily’s death. I really don’t see how it could have been white fever. But how could a Dark Aunt have killed her? And why???? Now that I have a relic from Lily’s time, I am very tempted to use it in my Time-Out Machine and see if I can solve these mysteries.14 And yet . . . I hesitate to just zap myself merrily into the eighteenth century. For one thing, I can’t predict EXACTLY what time (or location) this cat tail will take me to. Partly because I know nothing specific about the cat tail itself, but also because I haven’t EXACTLY perfected how the T.O.M. targets your destination. The theory is totally sound, but the mechanism hasn’t proven to be as reliable in practice as I’d hoped.

  I still think I did a pretty great job in designing the controls, based on the concept that every little thing has a unique identity. A pebble, a page torn out of a calendar, a severed cat tail, you name it. And every unique identity has a unique path in space and time. So, I just load in the object, and spin the dial to specify where along its space-time line I want to go. I’ve gotten pretty good at the fine-tuning. “Pretty good”—not “kick-ass.” When the object is something short-lived, like a flower or a bee, then it’s no big deal, but throw a dinosaur bone in there, and then you’re playing with a VERY large span of time, and it gets much harder to narrow down where and when you’ll end up. Even THAT wouldn’t be a big problem if I were well stocked on black rock, cuz I could just keep rolling that dial, moving back and forth in time, until I found the perfect moment. However, I’m NOT well stocked on black rock right now. SIGH.

  Will double-check the lab for any remaining black rock supplies tomorrow. Daylight is almost here and I am beat.

  Sept. 6

  Today's assignments:

  Read pages 1-343 in Particle Physics: Not for Dummies

  Practice elbow strike and hammerfist-13 points

  Return Said Student's ID (EXTREMELY LATE!!!)-3 points

  Make copy of Mom's house key (SEVERELY LATE!!!!) -13 points

  Read selected poems from Shinkokinshu-13 points

  Locate supplies of black rock-6666 points

  Am determined to do a better job today of crossing assignments off my list. To that end, have dropped Said Student’s ID in the nearest mailbox and simply crossed “Make copy of Mom’s house key” off my list. What do I need with a house key anyway? No door or window in this house can keep me out.

  Excellent progress. Am moving on.

  Later

  Just as I suspected—I cannot
find a single drop of liquid black rock anywhere. The big jar I brought home from my trip to Great-Aunt Emma’s house in Blackrock is bone-dry. Ditto every single test tube and beaker in my lab. Must have been that time I filled the kiddie pool with the stuff in order to rejoin the severed halves of my personality . . . yeah. Well, that leaves just one option. Am going to have to skip Strange 101 tonight and drive out to Blackrock. Extra credit, here I come.

  Later

  Mom packed us a picnic basket and gave me my assignment for the trip,15 and now the cats and Raven and I are on the road. Good times!

  Later

  Vattering muckfrogs, this is very strange. Raven and I are here at the exact mile marker where Blackrock should be, and . . . I don’t know. There is no Blackrock here.

  Have read and re-read the directions many times. I just don’t understand it. Not much I can do about it now, though. I guess we’ll just eat our picnic and head back home.

  Later

  Odd stuff is going down. . . .