The Guild of Fallen Clowns

by Francis Xavier

  "Sounds like you take after them." Alan said.

  "Actually, I'm not like them at all. I'm a homebody. I only did that for her sake. I would never be able to do that for myself. All those trips were with tour groups. I'm perfectly comfortable living a simple life." she grabbed his arm and pulled. "Now lets get back to work."

  When they returned to the studio, Alan noticed red drops in the creamy white silicone of the open bucket. “I got some blood in the silicone. Will that be a problem? Should I try to scoop it out?”

  Mary looked at the handful of tiny drops on the surface of the silicone. “We’ll just mix it in real good and it’ll be—well, drops in the bucket.” She smiled. “By the way, how did you cut your hand at the carnival?”

  “Oh yeah, well, I work there part time.”

  “You do? What do you do there?”

  Up till this point, Alan thought he did a good job of portraying himself in just a moderately geeky way. He wasn’t forthcoming about his other gig as a part-time clown because he didn’t want to totally blow her impression of him. The Clown World Boogy character was one thing. He was an admired and powerful virtual character, but he feared the real world Boogy might raise warning flags in her mind. He didn’t want to tell her, but he couldn’t ignore her question.

  “I’m a clown there. Actually, I’m Boogy the Clown.” Oh great, he thought. Now she knew of his connection to the dork side. He couldn’t believe he just threw it out there without trying to change the subject.

  “Oh my god. So you’re not just Boogy the Clown in Clown World? Are you telling me you really dress up that way and act as Boogy at the carnival?”

  Suddenly, he felt like he was back at Paula’s house delivering a pizza while she tried to hide her pity for his pathetic life. Why did he believe Dale when he convinced him that he had a chance with Mary? She was a normal person, which naturally put her in a league way above his own. Mary was just a nice person. She couldn’t possibly have a romantic interest in someone like him. Her only interest was in being his friend and sharing an interest in sculpting. He was delusional thinking it could ever turn into something more.

  Now that the cat was out of the bag, he had nothing more to hide. He might as well accept the fact that he and Mary would just be friends and get on with the lesson.

  “Yes. I also do kids parties,” he replied.

  Mary smiled wide—more proof that she was never interested in the possibility of dating him. If she viewed him in any other way, she wouldn’t be smiling back at him in amusement over his lifestyle.

  “You’re kidding me,” she said as she punched his arm.

  “No, I’m your mild-mannered pizza delivery guy by night and a stumbling clown on weekends. Well, actually I do both, day and night, but you get the idea.”

  Still smiling with great amazement, she punched his arm again. Alan covered the spot with his hand. “Ow! You’re gonna have to stop doing that.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. She reached over and rubbed his hand, still over the tender area. “You amaze me, Alan.”

  “What?”

  “Seriously, you are a very interesting person. I think it’s awesome that you work as a clown.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course I do. Don’t you get it?”

  “Get what?”

  “It’s been right there in front of you the whole time. You have the soul of an artist, Alan. You are a free spirit. You find something you’re passionate about and you live it. I can’t believe you never realized this about yourself.”

  “Still not following you here,” he said.

  “Alan,” she said as she grabbed both of his arms. “You are a creative person. You’re an artist at heart. I think it’s awesome that you’ve found an outlet for your dreams. And now I’m going to help you express yourself even more, through your sculpting.”

  “Okay, sounds like a plan,” he said. He still wasn’t sure why Mary was so excited over his clown gig at the carnival. By now he wasn’t even sure if he had blown his chances with her romantically. She said she admired his loser lifestyle. This was all too strange for him.

  “Oh, before we get into the lesson, you need to promise me something,” she said.

  “What’s that?”

  “You need to take me to the carnival. I love carnivals but I don’t know anyone here and I wouldn’t want to go alone. I’d love to see you dressed as Boogy there, but I’d rather go with you—when you’re not working.”

  “Sure,” he said. Did she just ask me out on a date? He wondered.

  “Great! Oh, I can’t wait. When? When can we go? I’m free whenever you are.”

  “How’s Saturday night sound?” he asked.

  “It’s a date!” she said.

  “It’s a date,” he confirmed. Wow, a real Saturday night date with a cute girl. Dale was a genius.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon with Mary teaching Alan everything he needed to know in order to make his first mold. The initial step was to brush on the first of multiple coats of silicone over his sculpture. He assumed Lailah was growing more comfortable with him because the quakes stopped and there was a feeling of calm in the house. Mary had said she felt safe with Lailah around. Maybe Lailah was just being a bit overprotective of Mary. Now that she accepted him and realized he wasn’t a threat to Mary, she backed down.

  The cure time between coats of silicone and the subsequent fiberglass shell was long. Mary took advantage of this time by demonstrating the casting and finish painting processes on some of her finished molds. With hours to go before his mold was ready for use, Alan made a shopping list of the various products he lacked in order to cast and paint his first piece. On his way home that afternoon, he stopped at the art store to stock up on the necessary materials to complete the first replica of his Peepers sculpture.

  It was midnight when Alan gazed at the figure in his hand. The image of Peepers, which had so frightened him days earlier, now acted as an inspiration and turning point in his life. He was proud of the results and he looked forward to getting Peepers’ approval the following morning.

  *****

  Admiring his work before presenting it for approval, Alan stood in the mirrored labyrinth waiting for Peepers to appear. Geno left him in the center of the room as he secured the entrance door from the inside, then exited to the catwalk structure above.

  Lights in the chamber dimmed and the familiar swirl of smoke in the mirrors gave way, revealing Peepers. His eyes fixated on the object in Alan’s hand.

  “Oh, hey, Peepers,” Alan said. He held the figure out so Peepers could get a better view of his work.

  “I finished it. What do you think?”

  Peepers floated through the mirror. His translucent body stopped and bent down for a closer inspection.

  “Peepers wise in choosing Alan. Talent greater than Peepers know.”

  Alan smiled. “I guess that means you like it?”

  “Like, yes. Peepers now able to free fearful humans. Alan must help Peepers earn light.”

  Alan returned the figure to a paper bag. “I’m ready, Peepers. I already know who you can help.”

  “Alan give Peepers likeness tonight. Then Alan make more. Help others. Help Peepers earn light,” Peepers said.

  “Hold on, Peepers. The person I want to help with this is scared. She won’t even open her door to me. I have to wait for her to order a pizza. Then I can leave your figure with the pizza.”

  “Must be tonight,” Peepers commanded.

  “I can’t promise anything, Peepers. If she orders a pizza tonight, great, but if she doesn’t call for a few days—well, we’ll just have to wait. You have to trust me on this.”

  Peepers slumped and said, “Alan right. Peepers eager to help.”

  “I understand. I’m also anxious to help others.” Just then, Alan had another thought for the Peepers figure. “Peepers—could you help my sister-in-law with her fear of crowds? She stresses out whenever she’s around a lot of people.”r />
  Peepers took a long time considering Alan’s suggestion. He turned away to face the reflection-less mirror. So much time passed that Alan wasn’t sure if he understood his question.

  “Peepers…did you hear me? I’m just trying to think of a way to help you right away.”

  Peepers turned to face Alan and said, “Peepers not best for this. Family close. Alan need guild member better suited for her fear. Need Agor.” Again, Peepers turned toward the mirrors, and an image emerged from the darkness—a short, thin elfish-looking clown. His ears were pointed and his nose was long and blue, resembling a gourd. He wore a three-pointed hat decorated with colored pom-poms. He held his hands together against his chest and twitched nervously as he struggled to retain eye contact with Alan.

  “Say hello, Agor,” Peepers said.

  Agor looked up long enough to follow Peepers’ instruction. In a high-pitched voice he said, “Hello.” His eyes quickly lowered and he let out a short burst of a giggle that sounded like a machine gun. With each “heh” of the rapid-fire uncomfortable release, flashes of him appeared throughout the mirrors of the room. Each one was identical to the original Agor; however, all appeared in different sizes, ranging from short, fat versions to tall and thin. The images vanished as quickly as they appeared.

  “Hello, Agor. It’s nice to meet you,” Alan said.

  “Look closely, Alan. Agor can help your family. Sculpt Agor and present to sister. Problem go away,” Peepers said.

  Alan studied Agor. Again, Agor twitched and giggled, and again, his multi-sized images flashed through the mirrors.

  “I think I got it,” Alan said as he backed away. Peepers looked at Agor and raised his hand, dispatching the nervous clown back into the darkness.

  “Peepers also help with Alan’s bully problem,” Peepers said.

  Alan looked surprised and confused.

  “What bully problem?”

  “Peepers know about Lyle. The guild can help Alan.”

  “How do you know about Lyle? And what makes you think I have a problem?”

  “Peepers’ visions beyond the Labyrinth. Alan help us leave confines and help in physical world beyond.”

  “So you saw what Lyle did the other day?”

  “Yes. The Guild unable to help Alan then. Now the guild can help.”

  Peepers turned back toward the mirrors and another clown character emerged. He was of average height, but wide and muscular. He had a large round head with bright orange curly hair. He had an infectiously wide, gap-toothed smile, which appeared to stretch from one protruding ear to the other. Instead of wearing a typical clown suit, he wore a multicolored polka dot tank top and frilly white cuffs around his wrists. His pants were pleated with pin stripes and held up with a knotted rope. His clown shoes were typical in size, but glossy black in color.

  “Spanky at your service,” he said with a bow.

  Peepers turned back, waiting for Alan’s approval.

  “What is this?” Alan said. He looked past Peepers and said, “Hi, Spanky. Nice to meet you, but I don’t need your help.” Spanky frowned. Alan looked back at Peepers and continued, “I don’t know why you think I need help with Lyle. He’s just immature. I do fine by avoiding him whenever possible.”

  “Peepers promised to help Alan. Spanky helps change people who hurt others. Can help Lyle become good. Help Alan.”

  Alan shook his head. “I understand, and I’m sorry if I got upset. But let’s slow down here. We’ll start with Mrs. Henderson. And I’ll think about sculpting Agor, but we really have to slow down. This stuff takes time and I’m working two jobs. I need to go at my own pace.”

  Peepers waved Spanky away and lowered his head. “Peepers apologize. Alan right. In time our light will come.” Without warning, his image floated through the panel and faded from view.

  Geno’s voice came over the speakers. “Unlock the door before you leave.”

  Chapter 12

  With his suspension over, Alan returned to work at Vince’s. He arrived early, his face still covered in clown makeup. His plan was to clean up using the bathroom sink before starting his shift.

  Upon entering the shop he stopped at the counter and stuffed the tip jar with $17.50. Joe quietly observed his offering from a distance. Jamie stood behind the counter and asked the obvious question.

  “What’s with the wad of money?”

  “It’s my tips from the other night,” Alan replied.

  “Holy crap, Boogy! I didn’t know you made that much on tips. I must be doing something wrong.”

  Alan grinned. Reading his expression through the colorful face makeup was difficult, and Jamie misinterpreted the look as a disapproving glare. He knew Alan didn’t appreciate being referred to by his clown name, but Jamie was skilled at walking within inches of the fine line where people snap.

  “Oh, sorry, Alan, I know you don’t like to be called Boogy outside the carnival, but you brought it on yourself by walking in here looking like a clown.”

  Alan’s grin turned to a smile. “That’s okay, Jamie. I overreacted the other day. If you want to call me Boogy, I’m fine with it.”

  With that statement, Jamie realized the target of his sarcasm was becoming immune to his pokes.

  “Okay, Boogy. So tell me something. Why did you pick the name Boogy anyway?”

  “Well, when I was a kid, I was scared of the dark. Actually, I was scared of just about everything. My little brother teased me and called me Boogy because it’s short for Boogieman.”

  “Really. Are you sure he didn’t call you Boogy because you picked your nose?” Jamie teased. He chuckled at his own joke and looked back to see if Joe would join in. Joe pretended not to hear the conversation.

  “I wish,” Alan replied. “Every kid picks his nose. That would have been much less humiliating than thinking monsters and ghosts were hiding in my closet and under my bed.”

  Another of Jamie’s snarky attempts to rile Alan fell flat, leaving him the loser in his one-sided battle of wits. Joe smirked as he removed a pizza from the oven and slid it into a box, obviously amused by Alan’s unintentional disarming of the shop’s most effective instigator. Seeing Jamie at a loss for words was a welcome sight.

  “Hang on, Alan,” Joe said, preventing him from continuing to the washroom.

  Alan was sure that his suspension was over, and he also knew that he wasn’t late for work. Why would Joe stop him near the front counter?

  He froze. From behind, the bells above the door announced the entrance of customers. Three fraternity brothers from the college sauntered up to the counter. One flinched as he noticed the clown-faced Alan standing off to the side. In his startled state, he bumped into his friends. The three stopped and took in the sight when one laughed and said, “Are we in the right place? I didn’t know the circus was in town.” The other boys joined in his laughter and the sight of the clown in a pizza shop.

  Jamie jumped in. “Hey, guys, back off. Alan works here. And, it’s not the circus. It’s the carnival. He works part time there while they are in town.”

  Alan wasn’t bothered by the comment or their amusement at his expense, but he was shocked that Jamie stepped up to defend him. At any other time, Jamie would have assisted the boys in elevating the tone to the point of humiliating mockery.

  The three boys backed down as one explained that he was caught off guard by the sight of a clown in a pizza shop. Jamie didn’t pretend to understand and coldly asked what they wanted.

  “We’re here to pick up five za’s, for our frat party,” one replied.

  Joe overheard their conversation from the oven and told them their pizzas were almost done. The trio waited quietly, taking turns looking at the clown in the room with them.

  “Hey!” one of the boys said. “We should have the clown deliver our za’s.”

  “Why, Todd? We’re already here. Why would we pay extra for delivery?” another said.

  “Think about it. Debbie is at the house, dude! We can get her to ans
wer the door.”

  Suddenly all three boys looked at each other, as if they each envisioned the same image of this Debbie girl answering to door for the pizza delivery clown.”

  Alan didn’t follow their logic. “Does your Debbie friend like clowns?”

  The boys grinned in unison and Todd said, “Yes, Debbie loves clowns. You have to deliver our pizzas, dude.”

  “Sorry, guys, I don’t wear the clown makeup when I deliver pizzas. I was just about to remove it before I start work. It’s been on all—”

  Before Alan could finish, Joe nudged a boxed pizza into his arm. Alan turned and took the pizza from him.

  “It’s for Mrs. Henderson. She called a while ago. I thought you’d be here early so I got it started.”

  “Sure, Joe, but give me a minute to clean my face.”

  “It’s Mrs. Henderson, Alan. She won’t even see your face. You can clean up when you get back. Oh, and hurry up with it. The old lady didn’t sound like herself. We wouldn’t want her to starve to death. Thanks, buddy.”

  Alan stood holding Mrs. Henderson’s pizza as Joe plopped five boxed pizzas on the counter in front of the college kids.

  “Here they are, boys. Ring it up, Jamie,” Joe said before returning to the oven.

  Alan was halfway out the door when Todd turned and called out, “Alan, it’s Alan, right? Your name?”

  Alan stopped in the doorway. “Yes, it’s Alan.”

  “Okay, Alan. Now that it appears that you are headed out without removing your clown face, would it be too much to ask for you to deliver our za’s after that delivery? While you still have the makeup on?”

  Alan looked at the pleading faces of the boys. “Fine.”

  Todd didn’t give Alan a chance to change his mind. He grabbed the stack and nudged Alan to lead the way to his car, where he helped load them onto the passenger seat. Alan started the car and looked forward before backing up. Todd stood in front of the car on the sidewalk with his index fingers pointed to the symbols on his shirt.