The Stranger's Woes (6 page)

“No catch? You don’t understand?”

“Oh! I dig.”

Now it was his turn to bat his lovely almond-shaped eyelids in consternation. This was tit for tat. Slang from two different Worlds, mutually unintelligible. I wanted to take my hat off to such a singular historical encounter, but, alas, I wasn’t even wearing a turban.

“Who might you be, my dear chap?” I said, starting in on about the eighth windowsill. A hole in the heavens above this sinning palace of an apartment, and above Sir Juffin Hully who had found these “humble lodgings” for me!

“I am Sir Anday Pu, senior reporter for the
Royal Voice
,” the stranger said. “Catch? Not from any old
Echo Hustle and Bustle
, but—”

“You’re really a senior reporter?” I said, doubtfully. The last name wasn’t familiar to me. Considering my passion for accumulating newsprint, this was rather strange. But I did have a bad memory for names.

“Well, one of the seniors. What’s the diff?” my penguinesque friend said with a shrug. “Our editor, Sir Rogro Jiil, has asked me to do a story on Sir Max’s cats, who will eventually become the parents of the first Royal Felines. I decided I simply had to meet Sir Max in person. My colleagues, those cowardly plebs, whisper terrible tales about your master behind his back. By the way, could you stand me a mug of kamra, pal?”

When I paused in my chores and turned around, I discovered that he had already seated himself at my table and was distractedly rearranging my cups. Why did I even bother cleaning up?

“Look in the jug,” I grumbled. “Maybe there’s something left, I don’t remember.”

A soft gurgling sound ended my doubts. I sighed, then turned to face my final task. I started unfurling the weighty Kettarian carpet. If I had taken the trouble to lug the rug all the way from Kettari, I deserved the pleasure of seeing it unrolled, at least.

“Will Sir Max be home soon?” Anday said with his mouth full.

Drat, now he was scarfing down my breakfast.

“I don’t know,” I barked out. “He’ll be back when he pleases. And I’m going upstairs to bed, so I’m afraid I’ll have to interrupt your meal.”

“Take it easy, man! I’ll just wait for him in the living room. At the same time, I’ll get acquainted with his cats. Where are they, by the way?”

“I guess they’re sleeping on the bed in my room,” I said. “Didn’t it ever occur to you to just come back later?”

“You no catch,” Anday blurted out. “I have to show my story to the editor no later than tomorrow. If Sir Max doesn’t come home before evening, sound the alarm! And if I don’t even manage to see the cats—well, the dinner’s over.”

His eyes were filled with such anguish that my stony heart started to crack ever so slightly. I shuffled the empty food bowls around on the floor invitingly, and in no time I heard the patter of their stubby kitty legs on the stairs. My furry beasties never turn down the opportunity for a little snack, no matter how often I feed them.

“Here they are,” I said proudly, filling up their bowls. “Observe them, study their habits, but don’t take it into your head to eat their food. They might turn violent. They’ll go for the jugular, and it’s curtains for you.”

“It’s what?”

“Curtains. Like, you’re dead. Dig?”

“Ah, like somethin’
bad
’
s
gonna happen. Where did you go to school, anyway? In college we used to say ‘the dinner’s over.’ But I catch! By the way, is there anything to eat around here? I mean, Sir Max is a rich guy, and it’s not going to make a dent in his pantry if I—”

“It’s definitely not going to make a dent in his pantry,” I said, laughing. “Only it’s unlikely you’ll find anything edible in this house. I’ve already eaten everything in sight.”

Poor Anday looked so deflated it almost brought tears to my eyes.

“Oh, all right. I’ll try to rustle up some food.”

I thrust my hand under the table. This was a good excuse for me to try the trick with the Chink between Worlds, which still baffled me.

The rotund Anday Pu turned out to be a lucky guy. This time I pulled out not a broken umbrella or yet another bottle of mineral water (which happened all too often) but an enormous frying pan in which some eggs, covered with a generous portion of melted cheese, were already sizzling. This was more than I had expected.

“Be sure to clean up after your meal,” I said sternly. “When Sir Max sees a mess on his table, he spits poison first, then looks for the culprit later. My advice to you is that it doesn’t pay to wait. You were assigned to write a story about the cats? Well, here they are. Write to your heart’s content, and make your editor happy. Got that? I’m going to bed.” I didn’t have the strength to send him packing. I was too tired for words.

“No catch! Where did this grub come from?” the flabbergasted visitor inquired of my weary back.

“From under the table.”

“Well, knock me down with a feather,” Anday exclaimed.

Ignoring his dumbstruck fascination, I went up to the bedroom and wrapped the powerful “rag”—the kerchief of the Grand Magician of the Order of the Secret Grass—around my neck with habitual ease. I had been strongly encouraged not to fall asleep without it these days.

Then it was lights out for me.

Praise be the Magicians, I finally had a dream. A very somber and meaningless one, but hey, I was willing to take any dream I could get. After that I awoke feeling absolutely refreshed. I was the happiest man in the Universe. Everything had fallen into place again.

I went downstairs in the most benevolent of moods. The absurd journalist, Anday Pu, was still sitting at the table. The mess I had banished just a while ago had been restored, despite my glowering threats. The coquettish Ella was purring tenderly in his lap. On the floor, Armstrong was tangling himself lazily in the hem of Anday Pu’s looxi.

“Sir Max never came home,” Anday said sadly. “I might as well give up. It’s the absolute end of the dinner.”

“You mean you’re finished?” I grinned. “You don’t know how lucky you are, buddy! He would have finished you off. What happened to the table?”

“Take it easy, kid! I don’t know where to put all this stuff. That’s your job, anyway. I’m sure you get paid a pretty penny for it. Come on, it won’t kill you.”

“I don’t get paid a thing,” I said cheerfully. “It keeps me alive, and that’s enough. You see that door? That leads to the hallway, if you remember. There’s a brazier in there, a big thing. Bring it here and dump everything you see on the table in it. It won’t kill you, either, I hope.”

“No, no, no problem,” said the guest, formerly on the verge of rage but now nodding agreeably.

I nodded back, then went off to bathe. My good mood was unshakeable.

When I got back to the living room, my hapless visitor was piling up the dirty dishes on a large metal tray. His face wore an injured expression. At the rate he was going, he wouldn’t be finished before midnight. I sighed, and in one bold motion swept the remains of the disorder into the brazier. Then I snapped the fingers of my right hand jauntily. I had learned this trick not long ago, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to garner applause for it. The small mountain of junk rose up, turned a sickly shade of green, then disappeared altogether, to my indescribable relief.

“There,” I said proudly.

“Was that Forbidden Magic? Whoa! Now you’re really smokin’, man. Everyone might as well give up,” said the only witness of my modest wonder-working.

“No catch?” I sniffed. “There’s nothing forbidden about it. Just ordinary manual dexterity.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Excellent,” I said. “That’s either Sir Max, which I doubt, or my morning kamra, which I very much hope. Let’s see.”

My guest drew himself up, arranging the folds of his looxi.

These journalists have a thick skin. They aren’t even afraid of a monster like me! I thought, going out to welcome my breakfast.

Naturally, I had to share my kamra and cookies with Anday Pu. I didn’t actually mind. Ella seemed so fond of him already. But it began to look like he was planning to occupy my living room until kingdom come, and it was time for me to report for duty. Well, the poor sucker was just asking for a nervous breakdown.

After breakfast I went back upstairs, where, not without a touch of sardonic anticipation, I wrapped myself in the Mantle of Death. If they make a monster out of you, you’ve got to derive the maximum amount of pleasure from it. These were my thoughts as I was going downstairs again.

“Uh-oh, why didn’t I catch right away?” Anday Pu burst out with fearful enthusiasm. “So
you
are Sir Max? I might as well give up. The dinner’s over once and for all!”

I laughed. His pet phrase about the end of dinner was wonderfully apt. Moreover, the comical brazenness of the journalist was balm to my heart, fed up as it was with the timid glances and fearful silence of the citizens of Echo.

“
Now
do you catch?” I said, smiling. “Well, what was it you wanted to know about my cats? Hurry it up, though. I’ve got to go to work.”

“The cats are to die for!” Anday said wistfully. “But I’ll be on my way, if you’re in a hurry. I’ve outstayed my welcome as it is. Forgive me, but I didn’t catch. I hope I haven’t caused you too much trouble.” His boldness was quickly diminishing.

“Not too much,” I lied. “You can send me a call if there are any questions.”

“May I? Thank you, Sir Max. I’ll definitely—”

Anday ducked into the hallway and shut the door softly behind him as he left, so I never had the pleasure of finding out what he “definitely.” I shrugged and set out for the House by the Bridge. I still had time to run over to the
Glutton
and back with Juffin.

“You’re looking great, Max,” said Juffin. “Dining at Boboota’s has really done you good. Maybe you ought to visit him more often.”

“I knew you’d say that. Make light of the state of my health—it’s all the same to me. Today I had a dream.”

“A dream?” Juffin raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t be so eager to rejoice about that if I were you.”

“Oh, a hole in the heavens above it all,” I said with a dismissive wave of the hand. “In the first place, it wasn’t a nightmare. In the second place, yesterday even a nightmare would have been welcome. Have you already heard about Boboota’s mushroom?”

“Just don’t get it into your head to tell me about it.” The boss’s panic looked almost unfeigned. “I won’t survive it for the eighteenth time.”

“Melifaro told the story just five times, Juffin,” Kurush interjected. “You sometimes have a tendency to exaggerate.”

“No, joy of my heart, five times when you were here. He dogged my footsteps wherever I went, blathering on about that sinning mushroom.”

“Melifaro beat me to it, the mangy dog,” I said. “Too bad for you, Juffin. I could have told it better.”

“I don’t doubt it for a moment. But I’ve already had an earful of that story. Let’s go to the
Glutton
. I have something interesting to report.”

“What a treat!”

“No, not a treat. Just trivia. How you love your job!”

“I hate it,” I said in a dignified tone. “It’s just that I’m a shameless careerist and I’m trying to suck up, isn’t that obvious?”

The upshot of the matter was that after a hearty breakfast, I received orders to deliver a certain character to the House by the Bridge. Sir Kofa had been observing his antics at the card tables of the local taverns for several days now. The fellow indulged everywhere in his penchant for Forbidden Magic of the sixth degree, which furthered his success considerably. Sir Juffin was of the opinion that my participation in the arrest proceedings would make a bigger impression. Terrible rumors were making the rounds in the city, so hard-boiled cardsharpers were turning into innocent lambs right and left. For the next dozen days it was better than nothing, of course. It’s better to prevent petty crime than to catch someone at it.

So as not to seem out of character, I turned up my nose fastidiously at the task and lectured my boss on the futility of hammering in a nail with a microscope. Sir Juffin heard me out with amused equanimity, then nodded toward the door.

“I get the point,” I said. “I’m on my way.”

“Don’t sulk, Max. You have to hammer the blasted nails in with something,” Juffin said. “Good evening, Sir Microscope.”