“You don’t want us to hurt him? I don’t understand.”
“I only want him to leave so he can’t take my job.”
“Okay, pal. What if I tell him he better fucking quit or else we will hurt him? If he refuses to quit, we’ll have to hurt him, but it won’t be your fault. It’ll be his because it’s his choice. If he doesn’t want us to fuck him up, all he has to do is quit.”
The Ringmaster looked puzzled by T-Pot’s plan. “So, if he gets hurt, it’s not my fault?”
T-Pot put his arm over The Ringmaster’s shoulders. “That’s right. It’s his decision. We don’t want him to take your job, but if he doesn’t quit, it’ll be like he’s telling us he wants your job. We can’t let him do that to you. That job is yours, right? You earned it. Anyone who can do something like that needs to be taught a lesson. He needs to learn that you can’t do that to people.” Behind his own back, T-Pot motioned to elicit support from his buddies. They all chimed in at once, agreeing with T-Pot.
“Yeah, you’re right. If he doesn’t leave, that means he wanted my job all along. If you have to rough him up a little, maybe he’ll learn from it and become a better person.”
“That’s right! You’d be doing him a favor.”
T-Pot’s distorted logic swayed The Ringmaster into action. He shared his plan with them and returned inside the tent.
Chapter 7
Entertaining guests was particularly difficult for Alan that afternoon. One minute he thought he had control over the whole Peepers situation. Then Geno showed him that he was never in control at all. The only thing he controlled was a desire to avoid Peepers altogether. He was back to thinking up excuses to avoid Geno, Peepers, and the Haunted Labyrinth of Mirrors.
Maybe this is another test, Alan thought. Father Harris didn’t say anything about facing my fears. He only said, “just believe.”
In his mind, he rationalized his way out of another encounter. He thought that in order to take control, all he had to do was stand up for himself by not allowing Geno or Peepers tell him what he had to do. He didn’t have to answer to them.
Who the hell do they think they are ordering me around? As long as it meant he wouldn’t have to go into the Labyrinth and face Peepers, his thoughts empowered him to a new level of internal defiance. The only downside was that he might never be able to play his beloved Clown World game again, because Peepers might be there. If only there were a way to take out a restraining order on ghosts, he would finally be content.
From across the midway, Alan heard his name being called out. The Ringmaster was waving him over to his booth. Alan broke away from the crowd and went to see what The Ringmaster wanted.
“Hey, Clown. I need your help. Sammy next door had to take a leak. Nobody was there so I told him I would keep an eye on his booth. Now I have customers and those two delinquents are nosing around his booth. I think they’re looking for an opportunity to steal something and I can’t watch them while I’m taking care of things here. Could you just stand inside his booth? With someone in there, they won’t steal any of the prizes.”
Alan glanced over. Two mean-looking boys hovered in front of the vacant booth. The Ringmaster was right. They looked like they were up to something so Alan agreed.
The Ringmaster guided Alan between the tent booths and told him he could access it from the rear. Alan headed down the narrow passage and the boys slipped in behind him. As Alan reached the back of the alleyway, the two boys along with a third one were waiting for him. Alan turned to leave but was blocked and surrounded by the thugs.
“What is this?” Alan said.
“This is an old-fashioned clown bashing,” replied one of the boys, who looked to be the leader.
Before Alan could ask why, the leader started the beating with a punch in the gut. Alan folded and fell to the ground. The other boys joined in by kicking him as he curled up in a fetal position to protect his face and midsection.
Looking on, The Ringmaster knew that T-Pot broke his side of the agreement. The commotion happened too quickly for any sort of negotiations with the clown. The shaking tent, shouting aggressors, and moans from Alan also drew attention from passing guests. It was too much for The Ringmaster. One of his customers asked what was going on. The Ringmaster didn’t reply and barked out to the crowd in an attempt to mask the sounds with his own voice.
Ringmaster grew fearful that the beating might be pinned on him. He decided to go for help and divert suspicion from him. Leaving two active customers, he jumped over the table and abandoned his position as he made a mad dash to the ticket booth. Within seconds, he arrived, pounding on the side door. Cracky turned to see him and opened the door.
“Cracky, you gotta come quick. They are beating up the clown. They are hurting him.”
Cracky didn’t ask for an explanation. He stepped out of the booth and ran past Ringmaster toward his booth. As he got closer, he could see people stopping to look at the swaying tent. He didn’t slow down as he passed between the tents and tackled three of the five boys to the ground. T-Pot watched his three friends disappear under the giant clown-faced meteor. He took off over the back border fence with the other lucky hooligan tight on his heels.
Cracky stood. The three boys remained on the ground moaning from the unexpected collision. Alan peeked through folded arms over his face and saw Cracky begin to pace beside the twisted pile of teenage garbage.
“What da hell are you kids doing?” Cracky said. “Get up!”
The boys slowly stood to their feet. Cracky looked relieved that they all survived his blow and that they didn’t appear to have any broken bones. Even though he was justified in taking them down, he knew how bad this could go if they decided to sue.
“Answer me, boys. What da hell is dis about?”
“We’re sorry, mister.”
Cracky stared them down and said, “Don’t say you’re sorry to me.” He looked down at Alan. “Hey Boogy, you okay, pal? Did dey break anything?”
Alan carefully stood to his feet. He bent down for his clown hat, shook out the dust, and put it on his head.
“I’m okay—I guess. Why did you guys do this? What did I do to you?”
“We’re really sorry, mister…clown. It wasn’t our idea.”
Cracky wasn’t the type of person to dwell on anything. The boys weren’t damaged and Boogy appeared to be in one piece.
“Follow me, boys,” Cracky said as he stepped toward the fence. They obeyed. Cracky lifted each one over the fence. When the last one was over, he told them to pass the word to the two that got away that he better not see them again. They apologized again and ran away.
“You sure you’re okay, Boogy? Do ya think you need to go home early?”
Alan was just a little bruised and said it wasn’t necessary. Cracky returned to the ticket booth and Alan brushed the straw and dust off his costume and headed back to his position.
As he came out from between the tents, The Ringmaster said, “I didn’t have anything to do with it. I was the one who went to get Cracky to save you.”
“I never thought you did have anything to do with it, Ringmaster. But thanks for getting Cracky.”
“Are you going to quit now? I mean, I’m guessing you would want to quit in case those kids show up again.”
Alan looked puzzled by The Ringmaster’s logic.
“No, I’m not going to quit. Cracky told them not to come back. I don’t think they will try it again.”
“Are you sure you want to take that chance? What if Cracky isn’t around next time?” The Ringmaster said.
Alan thought The Ringmaster’s line of questioning was bizarre. He just got roughed up by a gang of teenage boys and the only thing this guy could think about was whether or not he would quit. He didn’t wonder why they targeted him or if Alan was okay. Then he remembered that The Ringmaster viewed him as a contender for Geno’s job.
“Don’t worry, Ringmaster. I’m really not interested in any other jobs around here. I live h
ere, and I’m just a temp while the carnival is in Riverside.” Alan didn’t wait for a reply. He continued walking toward a group of young children.
The Ringmaster studied the clown as he walked off. The words sounded sincere, but The Ringmaster squinted his eyes and sneered before returning to a waiting customer.
*****
In the catwalk structure above the Labyrinth, Geno climbed a metal ladder to a hatch in the roof. Daylight temporarily filled the blackened control center as he crawled out to the roof. From his elevated vantage point, he had a view of the entire carnival. With his back to the carnival, he searched the field and parking lot beyond the fence. Fifty yards out, he spotted T-Pot and his gang hanging out by a large shade tree. He turned and climbed back through the hatch into the Labyrinth.
Behind the Labyrinth, a small garage door rolled up. Geno exited and pulled a rope to close the door behind him. He unlocked the back fence and left the carnival grounds.
*****
T-Pot circled the four boys lounging beneath the tree.
“I still don’t know where that freak came from,” T-Pot said.
“I know, TP! That guy came out of nowhere. At least you didn’t get run over by him.”
T-Pot continued pacing, trying to figure out what went wrong. “I’m fucking pissed because we barely got started. I probably only got three good kicks in.”
“I hope you’re not planning to go back, T-Pot. That giant with the clown face will kill us if we get caught again.”
As T-Pot weighed his options, he noticed Geno approaching.
“Hey, guys, look at this,” T-Pot said as Geno closed the gap between them.
The boys stumbled to their feet. As the chief of his tribe, T-Pot stood in front.
Geno slowed as he got closer to the group. He looked directly at T-Pot and said, “I’m glad I found you.”
“Who the fuck are you?” T-Pot replied.
Geno stopped and smiled. “I saw what you were doing to Boogy.”
“Who the fuck is Boogy?”
“The clown—the clown you guys were beating on inside. I saw it all.”
T-Pot stepped to within inches of Geno’s face. “Yeah, if you got a problem with it, we’ll fuck you up too, freak!”
“No! No! No! I don’t have a problem with it. Not at all. As a matter of fact, I thought it ended too soon.”
T-Pot stared into Geno’s dark eyes. Then he looked to his left, then right as he shook his head in agreement. “That’s what we was just talking about. We didn’t finish the job.”
“Exactly, that’s why I’m here. I can help you finish the job,” Geno said.
“Oh, wait a minute. Why are you guys all so eager to help us fuck that guy up? First that freaky top hat guy said he would get the clown over so we could pound him. Now you come over offering to help us. Why don’t you do it yourself? Why do you need us?”
“Very well,” Geno said as he began to turn. “I thought you might be interested, but I can see that the big guy scared you off. I’ll take care of it myself.”
“Hey, wait a second. We ain’t afraid of that big fucker. He just caught us by surprise. He ambushed us.” T-Pot pulled his knife from his pocket and flicked it open. “We’ll fuck him up too, but first we want the other clown.”
Geno looked at T-Pot. “Are you saying you want my help?”
“I’m listening,” T-Pot said.
“Okay, as you discovered, people will hear you if you do it outside. They won’t hear you if you mess him up inside the Labyrinth.”
“Whoa! You the guy in charge of that thing?” T-Pot said.
“Yes, I’m in charge of it and I can make it so you can make as much noise as needed and nobody will hear it.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” T-Pot said as he raised his knife to Geno’s throat. “Are you telling me you’re the guy who dumped a bucket of piss on me?”
Geno’s eyes cautiously looked down at the knife against his throat.
“Wait, that wasn’t my doing. I was on a break. I never let them out. They never come out when I’m around. You have to trust me. I’m the only one who can help you,” Geno pleaded.
T-Pot lowered his knife.
“Are you saying those things were real?”
“Real? Well, yeah, sort of. They are spirits trapped in the mirrors. I’m, eh, their master. When I’m there, they won’t come out.”
“You better not be lying to me, freak! If we see any clowns in there, I’ll—”
“He’ll kill you!” one of the boys shouted. “He really will. You really don’t want to piss off T-Pot. He’ll cut you. We’ve seen him do it.” He looked around the group. The other boys nodded along with him.
“He’s right,” said T-Pot. “You better not be screwing with us because it’s no joke. I’ll kill you.”
“Trust me! Boogy will be the only clown you see in there,” Geno said.
Chapter 8
The sun faded over the horizon. The carnival was still bright from pole lights, flashing neon in every color, and strings of lights outlining the attractions. With less than ten minutes remaining before the place closed for the night, the line for the Haunted Labyrinth of Mirrors dwindled to a handful of diehard fans.
Earlier that afternoon, Alan convinced himself to take a stand. He wouldn’t succumb to pressure from Geno or Peepers. This was the second time that he talked himself out of going inside the Labyrinth. This plan was stronger than his first because it gave him complete control. He didn’t have to do anything against his own will. He was feeling stronger already.
Although he felt empowered to stand up to Geno, he thought it might be best to play it safe by staying out of Geno’s sight. It was too early to leave, and he couldn’t risk being noticed hanging out near the entrance waiting for quitting time to arrive. His instructions were to work outside the Labyrinth. However, as soon as Geno shut it down, he would call for Alan to come inside. Alan didn’t know Geno. For all he knew, Geno might be the type of person who wouldn’t take his decision very well. He didn’t want to risk getting beat up again. Hiding was the logical solution. Where to hide was the question. He had better figure it out soon.
The clock was ticking and he became more anxious with each passing minute. Lights gradually turned off around him. He stood directly across from the Labyrinth and only a handful of lingering guests remained. This was a bad place and Alan knew Geno would confront him if he remained in that spot any longer. To his right, he could see The Ringmaster exiting the pathway from the Porta Potties. That’s it, he thought. I’ll spend my last few minutes going to the bathroom. It wasn’t as if he’d be hiding out from Geno because he actually did have to pee. He might as well do it before the drive home.
Without further consideration, he removed his clown shoes and rushed to the Porta Potties. Nobody was around and he still had about five minutes on the clock. He could take his time and then head toward the front gates and leave. He thought that he might even take the longer way to the exit so he wouldn’t have to pass in front of the Labyrinth on the way to the front gate. It was a perfect plan.
He stepped inside, placed his giant shoe covers in the sink, latched the door, and started working himself free of his costume. Before he was able to start relieving himself, the structure started shaking. He could hear low whispering voices outside the plastic walls. The unit was lifted off the ground. He braced himself and called out, “Occupied!” The rocking continued but he managed to pull his costume back on. By now it was obvious that whoever it was outside had no intention of stopping. He unlatched the door and pushed, but it wouldn’t open. He pushed a few more times. When that failed, he shoved his shoulder into it. Again, the door was blocked. He was trapped inside. While the activity outside was extremely disconcerting, it was the sloshing of a full day’s worth of human waste inside the toilet between his legs that posed a potentially more disturbing outcome.
The rocking stopped. Alan’s hands remained braced against the walls, prepared for addit
ional jolting.
“Hey! What’s going on out there? Let me out.”
It was silent. The door opened. Standing in front of him was T-Pot.
“Hello again, Clown,” he said as he clenched both fists; the rest of his gang stood behind him.
“Back up!” Geno shouted. The boys moved aside. “Come out, Alan.”
Alan looked beyond Geno and the teenagers and noticed he wasn’t outside. They had carried the Porta Potty into the Labyrinth.
“What did you do? Why…how did—”
“Step out,” Geno demanded a second time.
Alan grabbed his shoes and stepped out. Geno then instructed the boys to return the unit outside before anyone noticed it missing. Four boys picked up ends of two long boards slid underneath and lifted up the big container as T-Pot supervised. They walked it out and Geno quickly pulled the rolling door closed and locked it behind them.
Outside, T-Pot, sensing that Geno had double-crossed them, commanded the others to put the Porta Potty down short of its original location. With it back on the ground, T-Pot ran back to the Labyrinth door and started pounding.
“Hey! Let us in, freak,” he yelled. Cracky rounded the corner as T-Pot continued banging the door. The sight of the huge clown scattered the other boys like roaches. T-Pot turned to see Cracky reaching down for him. He ducked and escaped between Cracky’s legs. He jumped the fence and within twenty yards overtook his slower friends.
Cracky watched as they escaped a second time. He glanced back at the door of the Labyrinth. It was still locked tight with no signs of damage. Cracky slid the Porta Potty next to the others, went inside, and flipped the latch to the occupied position.
*****
Inside the Labyrinth, Alan stood motionless as Geno returned.
“We knew you wouldn’t come on your own. And don’t worry about those idiots. They won’t be back,” Geno said.
“How did you know I wasn’t going to come? And even if I didn’t, what gives you the right to kidnap me?”
Geno ignored Alan’s questions and exited the room as he did before.
“Peepers here to help Alan. Do not fear my image,” Peepers voice came from the darkness.
“Where are you?” Alan asked as he scanned the dimly lit mirrors in the room.
The Guild of Fallen Clowns Page 9