The Stranger - Max Frei [293]
“Hey gang, you know what?” I shouted when we had started in on the next jug of kamra from the Glutton Bunba (we had polished off so many I had lost count.) “I’m happy.”
Why in the World were they roaring with laughter? They couldn’t possibly have seen the Droopy Dog cartoons.
In the evening, I felt even happier, since I got to spend time with Chuff. He really did lick me from head to toe, but I didn’t mind. Then my eyelids started growing heavy. Had they cast a spell on me? But who needs a spell when a person hasn’t slept for two days or overindulged in Elixir of Kaxar?
In the middle of the night I woke up, unable to remember where I was. Looking around, I realized I was in my own bed at Sir Juffin’s, and that he was sitting over by the wall. His eyes seemed to glitter in the dark—but whose eyes don’t play tricks on them when they’re fresh from sleep? Anyway, the sight of him sent shivers down my spine.
“Sleep, Max. Don’t bother me,” my boss said drily. And I dropped off to sleep like a good boy.
In the morning Juffin looked tired, but satisfied.
“Go home, Max. I think I’ll sleep a bit. Come to the Ministry after lunch, or even later. It doesn’t matter when, just show up. And don’t forget about the kerchief if you feel like taking a nap. You’re just going to have to get used to it.”
“Well, if you say so. What did you find out about me?”
“Loads of things that wouldn’t interest you. Now scram, you monster! Let this old geezer get some rest.”
At home I was set upon with loud meows by Ella, who was even stouter than when I had left. Armstrong, in his turn, demonstrated brilliant logic: he stared at me pensively, then lazily walked over to his bowl. Well, it made perfect sense.
“Did you miss me?” I asked cheerily. “You don’t have to put on an act. I know you didn’t. I just cramp your style! I come in here making all kinds of noise; but that’s all right, I’ll feed you now.”
After feeding my beasties, I began unpacking my bags. It’s hard to imagine anyone returning from a trip to another World with such useless stuff! The clothes and knick-knacks of Lady Marilyn; the flotsam and jetsam I had accidentally pulled out of the Chink between Worlds, including the box of Cuban cigars. I’ll have to take it to the Ministry, I thought. Some aficionado will surely step forward to claim them. The eleven maps of Kettari I would gladly have hung in the living room, but Sir Juffin had warned me that these souvenirs should be safely hidden from prying eyes. So I would have to hide them more carefully.
Finally, I pulled out a small, crumpled parcel. Sinning Magicians, I forgot! My one and only surprise for Sir Juffin, Dish Number 13 from the evening menu of the Country Home—that Kettarian delicacy, that reeking bacon grease, that acme of unfathomable vileness, a “remedy for nostalgia,” etc. Never mind, I’d give him his treat later in the day. Better late than never.
I left for work just after noon. The black and gold Mantle of Death seemed to me like the best of all possible garments. I must really have been homesick.
Sir Juffin wasn’t there yet. But in the Hall of Common Labor, Lonli-Lokli was already sitting in state, dressed all in white, his hands in the embellished protective gloves clasped over his chest.
This vision completely satisfied my esthetic expectations, and I broke into a smile.
“Shall we run down to the Glutton and back, Shurf? Or shall we pretend that you’re too busy?”
“Too busy I’m not,” he replied. “The Glutton Bunba is a place I missed even when we were in the Country Home.”
“Even in the back room of the Country Home, where stern, gray-haired men threw themselves into games for small stakes, to kill time? I don’t believe it!”
“You’re right, Max. Let’s go, before I change my mind. Sir Melifaro, I’m leaving.”
“Has something already happened in the dark alleys of our capital, gentlemen killers?” Melifaro’s quizzical face poked out of the doors of his office. “Whose