• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

A gentle drowsiness quickly seized me, and I was once again out like a light.

* * * * *

I awakened from my slumbers to the none-too-gentle prodding of Kitten, who seemed to have decided I no longer deserved coddling. She was right. The pain in my skull had disappeared, and my strength had indeed returned. I felt well rested and refreshed, and if it weren't for the fact that I still could not recall a single thing about my past, I might have been tempted to pronounce myself fit as a fiddle.

"Do you remember who you are yet?" she inquired.

"No," I replied, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and thankful that the throbbing didn't return.

"Too bad," she answered flippantly. "I guess you'll just have to make do with what you know."

"Did Lothar tell you anything more? Maybe he knows something."

Kitten laughed heartily. Gone was the girlish giggle of my convalescence. "No such luck," she replied, "and just so you know, Lothar doesn't say anything. He can't."

"He's mute?"

"You might say that. Years back, his tongue was cut out after a particularly ugly argument with a particularly ugly brute."

"Too bad."

Kitten shrugged. "He doesn't seem to mind," she commented. "He can read and write and make his opinions known when he wants to."

"I'm sure."

"It's just an obstacle that needed to be overcome, sort of like losing one's memory."

I couldn't be sure if she intended her comment to be taken as encouragement or a malicious taunt. The only thing I really knew was that I desperately wanted to know who I was.

The formerly soft and sensitive Kitten grew impatient. 'Well," she said, tapping the toe of her soft-soled boot against the floor, "are you ready to get on with your life?"

I was perplexed. "What do you mean 'get on with my life'?"

"You seem well enough," she observed, setting her carefully manicured fingertip against her delicately tapered jaw. "I thought you might be in need of some employment, gainful or otherwise, unless of course you just planned on setting up housekeeping here with Lothar."

"What did you have in mind?" "I have this friend who is exceptionally good at judging the measure of a man. I'm sure he can size you up and situate you in an appropriate position." "What about my identity?"

"Suit yourself," Kitten replied with a shrug. "Personally, I always considered it more important to secure food, shelter, and whatnot before indulging in 'finding myself… but if you have some plan…"

This Dock Ward vixen was right. A question still nagged me, though.

"What sort of work can I do? If I don't know who I am, how can I know my abilities?"

"Don't you worry your damaged little head," she instructed condescendingly. "It's obvious you know a lot more than you realize. You're probably exceptionally good at a lot of things." She started toward the door.

"Just leave it up to Murph."

"Murph?" I asked, hot on her heels. "Who's Murph?" "Let's just say he's a broker of talents," she replied, hastening her step. "Hurry! He doesn't like to be kept waiting."

* * * * *

The door to my entire universe led to a hallway, which in turn opened on an alley. I'd been in a recently abandoned warehouse.

I was surprised how quickly my eyes adjusted to the broad daylight, until I realized our fast-paced journey through byways and back alleys of the Dock Ward was confined to shadowy areas. Like her surefooted namesake, Kitten scurried from patch of gray to patch of gray until I felt we'd walked for miles; we were probably only a few blocks from our original location. Whether she had an affinity for shade or some desire to evade pursuit, Kitten led me on a circuitous tour of the least splendid sights in the City of Splendors. We finally arrived at a boarded-up facade that had once been a tavern.

Kitten looked right and left, gave three firm stomps to the establishment's coal chute cover, lifted it back, and gestured for me to follow her as she slid inside. She whispered the singularly unsentimental admonishment, 'Try not to hit your head. It seems to have sustained more than enough damage for one lifetime."

Pausing a moment