Read The Guild of Fallen Clowns Page 12


  She raced down the stairs. Alan placed the damaged sculpture back in the towel.

  “Oh no, Alan, it’s ruined. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not so bad. I’m sure I can fix it.” He opened the door and stepped out to the porch. Mary followed.

  “I feel so bad. It was perfect.”

  “It’ll be fine,” he said with his back to her as he left the porch and rushed toward his car.

  “Well, if you can’t fix it by tomorrow, you’re still welcome to come by and learn how to make molds. Or we could reschedule.”

  “No, I’ll get him fixed up. I’ll come back again tomorrow.” By now he was opening his car door and reaching the towel-wrapped figure across to the passenger seat.

  “Okay. I’m so sorry, Alan,” she called out from the porch as he drove away and waved out the open window.

  Chapter 10

  Alan stopped at the art store for silicone molding materials. He was still shaken from the stairway incident at Krauss House, but it wasn’t enough to deter him from repairing his Peepers sculpture and returning the next day for Mary’s lesson on mold-making.

  Thanks to Peepers, Alan no longer felt a void in his life from the death of his virtual character in Clown World. He was invigorated and glowed with confidence in his new passion.

  *****

  Damages to his sculpture were more minor than he had thought. He was able to make the repairs prior to leaving for his shift at the carnival. As he approached the entrance in full clown attire, he bounced from group to group, entertaining children and families before passing through the carnival gates. Boogy the clown became a magnet, drawing people toward him as he playfully guided his mesmerized flock toward the ticket booth.

  Cracky watched as Boogy led at least thirty guests to him. As soon as he arrived, Boogy slipped to the side of the booth and leaned his gloved hand high against the wall, motioning his followers to form a line. Cracky opened the side door and said, “Nice work, Boogy, What got into you?”

  “Nothing, Cracky. I guess I’m just feeling pretty good today.”

  “Well you look like the Pied Piper of Clowns. Keep it up, pal.”

  Alan smiled and continued on to his position outside the Labyrinth. Before closing the door, Cracky called out to him and said he wanted to talk to him later. He said he would stop by as soon as things slowed down.

  Still flitting about the crowd as he neared the Labyrinth, Alan spotted Geno repairing a loose metal panel near the exit of the structure. He wasted no time and slipped up the exit path toward Geno, clowning with exiting customers the whole way. Patrons laughed as Boogy pulled multicolored handkerchiefs from a young girl’s ear. The frenzied laughter drew the attention of Geno. He stood and watched the clown as Boogy broke free and walked up to him.

  “Hey, Geno, how’s it going?”

  Geno looked puzzled by Alan’s new confidence. He cautiously replied, “Good.”

  “Great! Oh, I just wanted to let you know that you won’t have to kidnap me tonight. I’m looking forward to seeing what—” Before he finished, he looked around to be sure nobody could hear him. Then he whispered, “Peepers has in mind for me.”

  Geno still looked confused at the sudden change in Alan. He slowly nodded and Alan hopped back to the crowded midway.

  About an hour passed before Cracky caught up to Alan.

  “Hey, Boogy, there you are.”

  “Hey, Cracky, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “I just wanted ta see if you were alright after dose rotten kids beat on you da other day.”

  “I’m fine, Cracky. Surprisingly, most of the kicks didn’t hurt at all. I don’t think they really wanted to hurt me. They were just stupid kids acting tough. No harm done.”

  Overhearing their conversation from the nearby booth, The Ringmaster said, “I think Geno put them up to it.”

  “Whuchya talking ’bout, Ringmaster?” Cracky said.

  “Yeah, Geno is to blame. I saw him behind the fence talking to them in the field after you chased them away.”

  “After I chased dem?”

  “Yeah, Geno was out there talking to them. You should fire Geno and give me his job. It will be so much better with me in charge—”

  “Wait a sec, Ringmaster. If Geno was out dare after dey beat on Boogy, what makes you think he put dem up to it? Besides, Geno recommended Boogy for dis job. Why would he wanna get him beat up?”

  “I don’t know. I just know he’s probably responsible. You can’t take chances. You should fire him and give me the job.”

  “I’m not firing nobody. For all I know, he could have been telling dem to stay da hell away from here. You just want him fired ’cause you think I’d give you his job. You gotta give it a break, buddy.”

  Alan broke in. “Seriously, it’s nothing. I’m not hurt. A little bruised, but it’s nothing. Kids will be kids. Everyone just needs to forget about it.”

  Without another word The Ringmaster turned away to help a customer.

  “If you say so, Boog,” Cracky said. “But you won’t have ta worry bout dose kids again. I’m on da lookout. If dey are smart, dey won’t come wid-in a mile of dis place.”

  Cracky continued his rounds and Alan returned to his job entertaining the crowds outside the Labyrinth. The hours flew by as he waited for the carnival to close so he could visit Peepers. As time drew closer, he spotted Geno peeking out to see if he was keeping his promise to enter unassisted. It was obvious Geno didn’t trust him and he smiled each time he caught Geno spying on him.

  The last visitors made their way toward the exit. Geno released the ticket taker and motioned for Alan to come inside. Without hesitation, Alan marched over and followed him inside.

  At the end of the first corridor, Geno stopped and turned. “Wait here. I need to collapse the walls.”

  “No problem,” Alan replied as Geno disappeared around the bend.

  Soon Alan heard the loud sounds of mirrored panels sliding in the tracks of the floor and locking into new positions. When the noise stopped, Geno poked his head around and motioned Alan in. He entered the room where Peepers’ image was already waiting inside the mirrors.

  “Hi, Peepers. How are you?” Alan said awkwardly. He didn’t exactly know the protocol for greeting a ghost.

  Peepers glanced down at Geno. Geno took his cue and excused himself to work on a broken mirror in the far end of the open room. Peepers returned his focus to Alan, who by now was starting to feel a little uncomfortable.

  “So, uh, Peepers, I want to thank you. As I’m sure you probably already know, you were right about my talent. I gave it a try, and as you requested, I sculpted you. It turned out really good.”

  Peepers smiled and stepped out of the mirror in front of Alan.

  “Peepers help Alan. Alan now trust Peepers.”

  “Well, I guess so,” Alan said. “You were right about my ability to sculpt and I also figured out how you helped me break my addiction to Clown World. And, since I’m standing here now, you must have helped me with my fear—which was you, until now. So, yes, Alan trusts Peepers.”

  “Good. Now Peepers need Alan’s help. Alan can help Peepers and the Guild earn light.”

  “Yeah, okay, but how exactly can I do that?”

  “Peepers need Alan’s strong spirit and life energy to free us from the mirrors.”

  “Wait, what does that mean, free you from the mirrors? And how will this be accomplished?”

  “Through Peepers figures, Peepers can enter Alan’s world and—help people.”

  Alan tried to understand what Peepers was saying. He repeated his words back, filling in the blanks with his understanding.

  “So, are you saying that—if I make replicas of your sculpture, you can get out of this place and be able to help people?”

  “Yes! Peepers can help fearful people—like Alan once was.”

  Alan smiled when he heard Peepers’ words. He said them in past tense. No longer did Peepers consider him to
be weak and afraid of spirits. Peepers was responsible for this and Alan felt like he was going to be empowered with some sort of clown superhero powers to help other people reclaim their lives and live without fear. A new strength swelled inside him, but he had more questions.

  “What about the rest of the guild? How will my casting of your figure help them earn the light?”

  Peepers grinned. “Begin with Peepers. The Guild, in time. Alan help all of us soon, but begin with Peepers. Peepers will help others.”

  From a mirror behind Peepers, Alan noticed the face of one of the guild clowns show through. It was a concerned face shaking his head. His arms came into view and waved him away. He appeared to be saying the word “no,” but Alan heard nothing. Peepers turned to see what diverted Alan’s attention when multiple arms wrapped around the strange clown and pulled him back into the mirrors.

  “What was that?” Alan said.

  Peepers had only gotten a glimpse before the clown disappeared. He shrugged. “Clowns play. Poppy broke game rules.”

  “He looked scared. It also looked like he was trying to tell me something.”

  “Ignore Poppy,” Peepers said in a more agitated voice. “Peepers earn Alan’s trust. Together we help others.”

  “Okay, we can help people. That sounds great, but how will it work? I make some copies of your sculpture and do what with them? How can they help people?”

  “Present them as gifts to troubled souls—those who live with fear. Peepers will have power to help set them free.”

  Instantly, Alan thought of old lady Henderson. If Peepers could help her, Alan would be a believer.

  “What is it—like some sort of lucky charm or something? Will your figure prevent people from having destructive fears?”

  Peepers considered his response, then said, “Yes, Peepers free people from life with fear.”

  “What if people are scared of your figure? I mean—please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of scary looking. People who fear such things won’t want to live with something that scares them.”

  “Alan once fearful of Peepers. Alan no longer afraid. Trust Peepers.”

  “Okay, I guess you know what you are doing. I just want to be sure I’m not making people more scared by giving them your figures, or those of the other guild clowns. You all look pretty creepy. People might not be as understanding as I am.”

  “Begin with Peepers. Trust Peepers and we will help others,” Peepers said as his image floated back inside the mirror and faded to black.

  “Is that it?” Alan asked.

  Geno responded from the corner of the room, “With your help, Peepers will be stronger. He doesn’t have enough energy to appear for very long. That will change soon, with your help, of course.”

  Alan walked toward Geno near the exit. Geno tossed a broken piece of mirror glass in a banker’s box and closed the lid.

  “Could you do me a favor and take this to the Dumpster on your way out?” Geno asked.

  “Yeah, sure,” Alan replied as he bent down to pick up the box. His hands slipped through the box handles. As he gripped to lift the container, a shard of glass cut his left hand. He let go of the box and jumped back. Blood soaked his white glove.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Geno said as he jumped to his feet. “Oh no, your hand is cut. I’m so sorry, Alan. You should wrap that up to stop the bleeding.”

  Alan eased his clenched fist and removed the blood-soaked glove to examine the cut. It was deep and about an inch wide. To stop the bleeding, he balled up the glove and pressed it into the cut and clenched his fist again.

  “It’ll be okay. I’ll just keep pressure on it and bandage it when I get home.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe you should see if the first aid station is still open. They might be able to bandage it before you leave,” Geno said.

  “No, it should be fine. I don’t live that far away.”

  “Okay, if you say so. Don’t worry about the box. I’ll take it to the Dumpster. You just take care of your hand.”

  “All right, I’ll see you later, Geno.” Alan left with the thumb of his right hand pressed into the fabric over his wound.

  Geno carried the box of glass behind the building and mumbled, “Glass mirrors. What an idiot.”

  Chapter 11

  Alan placed two buckets of silicone on the porch of Krauss House and confidently knocked on the front door. The repaired Peepers sculpture was secure in his other hand. He was ready to learn, and he wouldn’t let Lailah scare him away again.

  Mary opened the door and saw the two buckets beside him.

  “Oh wow!” she said. “You really did get the economy size, didn’t you?”

  “Well, I was just taking advice from my teacher. You said I would save money by buying in bulk.”

  “Yes I did, but this means you’ll have to stick with it and make more sculptures,” she said. “I also see that you brought your Peepers sculpture back. Were you able to fix it?”

  Alan looked down at the wrapped figure. “Yes, it wasn’t that bad. Ten minutes and he was good as new.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that. I was heartbroken when it fell down the steps. You did such a good job on it. I would have been crushed if you weren’t able to fix it.”

  Mary held the door open, took the blanketed sculpture from him, and let him lead the way upstairs to her studio with the heavy buckets. He placed the buckets on the floor as Mary gently rested his sculpture on the table.

  “I timed this perfectly, Alan. I just opened my two-part silicone containers and I’m ready to start mixing. We’ll get your sculpture secured and you can follow along with me. You can start by opening your buckets. We’ll be mixing a one to one ratio. For later stages we’ll add a thickener, but for now we just need to measure out equal parts of A and B.”

  Alan peeled the plastic strip securing the lids to the buckets while Mary set up some cups, mixing sticks, brushes, and a scale. With the strips removed, Alan grabbed the lid of one bucket and started pulling up sections until the lid was free. He placed the lid on the table and started working on the lid to the second bucket. Mary unwrapped the Peepers sculpture and set it upright on a flat board.

  Suddenly, the house trembled as it did the previous day and the lid Alan placed on the table slid off and landed on his hands as he was opening the other bucket. Jolted from the lid hitting his hand, he quickly pulled away. The bandage over his injured palm stuck to the bucket and his cut re-opened. Not realizing what happened, he didn’t notice when blood dripped into the open bucket.

  Mary looked at his bloody hand and rushed to his aid. She grabbed his hand and reached for a paper towel to cover the wound.

  “Oh my god, Alan, what happened?”

  Alan was still trying to figure out why she grabbed his hand. Then he looked at it and realized the bandage had come off.

  “Oh, that didn’t just happen. I cut it last night at the carnival. The bandage must have come off while I was taking the lid off the bucket.”

  Mary took his other hand and pressed his fingers into the paper towel. “Rinse it clean in the bathroom. I’ll be right back with a Band-Aid.” She guided him into the hallway and aimed him toward the bathroom as she continued downstairs.

  Alan turned the handle and held his hand under the flowing cold water. As the fresh blood washed away, he noticed a pair of dancing porcelain Japanese figures on the counter beside the sink.

  "How's it look?" Mary asked as she stepped beside him and started opening the bandage.

  Alan looked back to his hand. "It's fine, I'm just a klutz."

  She turned off the water, grabbed his hand and dried it with a clean washcloth. "Nonsense. It could have happened to anyone," she said.

  As she tended to his cut, Alan looked back at the Japanese dancers. "Did you make those?" he asked.

  Mary followed his gaze. "Oh god no!" she said. "I bought those for my grandmother. I don't make tchotchke." She stuck the Band-Aid into his palm and
tossed the washcloth in the corner.

  "I don't get it. Why would you buy something for your grandmother when you could make things so much better?"

  Mary scooped up the bandage wrapper and tabs and tossed them in the waste can. "I didn't buy them for their quality." she said as she picked up the male figure and examined it. "I bought them to show my grandmother Japan through my eyes."

  Alan looked puzzled. She continued before he could ask her to clarify. "She was very sick the last ten years of her life. Before that, she always said that she would travel the world one day. She had dreams of stepping out of her simple life and exploring the world. She wanted her mother to be proud of her."

  "Her mother?" Alan asked.

  "I know, it sounds crazy. Her mother died when my grandmother was twenty. But that didn't stop her from trying to measure up to the powerful woman she was. Her mother was thirteen when she came to America from Poland. She didn't even come with her family. Her parents gave her to a wealthy family who used her as a slave. They took her with them to America. After that, she ran away and lived with distant relatives until she married and started a family of her own. Then she moved back to Poland with her husband and first child because he wanted to fight for his country in World War Two."

  "Did he survive?" Alan asked.

  "Surprisingly, yes. The war ended, and he and my great grandmother had three more kids together. They were very poor and the conditions there were horrible. She wanted to return to America, but he wasn't ready. So, she took the youngest child with her. The plan was to have him and the other kids come later when she could afford to pay for their trips. Once she got the money to bring them over, he backed out and stayed in Poland with the other kids. She knew she couldn't go back, so she stayed here with my great grandmother. Can you imagine how hard it must have been for her to give up her own children?"

  "That's awful!" Alan replied.

  "I know. She was so brave. That's why my grandmother felt so weak compared to her. She never left the farm, so to speak. She spent her entire life in three houses. She never travelled more than three hundred miles from where she was born."

  "So you helped her see Japan with those figures?" Alan asked.

  "Sort of. I travelled the world in her place. When I returned from all the countries I travelled, I brought her souvenirs and told her every detail about my trips. Near the end, she would look at the figures and recite the stories back to me as if the experiences were her own. I like to think I was able to give her the thing she wanted most. I just wish she could have been there with me. She was every bit as strong as her mother, and we would have had a blast together."