The Stranger - Max Frei [56]
“What do you think? What should I prepare myself for?”
“Honestly? I think you should prepare for the worst. I didn’t like the look of that house from the start. I didn’t like it one bit, but there was nothing I could put my finger on. I can’t remember anything like this happening before. Maybe my imagination is running away with me out of boredom, but I don’t think so. I think we’ll dig something up on that house. When Lookfi gets here we’ll find out something about the owners. And about the neighbors, as well. About how they feel living there. For the time being, take this.” Juffin offered me an unsightly scrap of cloth. “Wrap this around your neck before going to sleep. This will definitely wake you up.”
“What? Could it really be that dangerous?”
“Life is full of extremely dangerous things. Most dangerous of all are the things we don’t understand. Or things that don’t exist at all. All right, let me know when you wake up.”
A sense of obligation is not the best kind of sleeping pill. After tossing restlessly from side to side, I surrounded myself with volumes of Manga Melifaro’s Encyclopedia and began studying its excellent illustrations. I was interested in the local cat species and hoped to find pictures of them. It took me a long time to find them, but at last I was successful. At first glance, these wondrous beasts seemed like ordinary fluffy cats. What was striking about them, though, was their size. These furry shortlimbed creatures were no less than three feet in length. Their shoulder height was around a foot and a half. I determined this by comparing the picture of the cat with that of a gentleman in a knitted looxi. Turning to the accompanying text, I learned that the gentleman was none other than a shepherd. Reading further I discovered that “the peasant folk of Landaland breed cats for their warm coats.” Just like sheep! I was surprised and fascinated. Maybe it’s time I got myself a kitten. So what if the snobs from the capital consider them to be petty livestock that should be kept on farms? A barbarian from the Barren Lands, I was certain, would be forgiven more serious eccentricities than that.
Lulled by thoughts of my future status as the first cat-owner of Echo, I finally fell asleep. Alas, it would have been better if my insomnia had continued! The merciful sleep of oblivion quickly dissolved into a clear vision: again, I was lying on the table in the living room, helpless and motionless.
Worst of all, I had lost all sense of myself. Who I was, what I was like, where I was from, where exactly I was just then, what I was doing, say, a year ago, what type of women I preferred, what my friends’ names were, where I had lived as a child—I didn’t have the answer to any of those questions. Worse yet, I didn’t have any questions. My understanding of the world was limited to the sitting room and the triangular windows of the house next door. That, and great fear. Yes, that’s how it was: all I knew about the world around me was that it was a terrifying place, and that I felt wretched.
At last, the window of the house began to open slowly. Someone was staring at me from inside the room. Then, in the window, someone’s hand appeared briefly. A handful of sand flew out of the darkness, but instead of scattering onto the sidewalk below, it froze in midair like a small golden cloud. Then came another handful of sand, and another, and another. Now there was much more than just a cloud—a whole pathway was quivering in the sky. It was a short path and I was certain I knew where it led. So, the plot is developing, I thought. Well now, isn’t this just dandy? The plot has to unfold . . . Wait, that isn’t even my own thought, those are Juffin’s words! That’s just what he said, word for word.
As soon as I remembered my conversation