The Guild of Fallen Clowns

by Francis Xavier

  “The first thing you need to know is that the Guild of Fallen Clowns are spirits. Our powers come from our figures. Much greater powers than you can imagine. I was sent to help you, but you must understand the consequences of not playing by our rules.”

  “You’re not real? Are you telling me you’re some kind of ghost or something?” Dave jumped from the couch and continued, “I’ll admit that you have some convincing tricks. I don’t know how you disappeared and reappeared just then, or…or how you made that statue move and talk, but that’s not enough to make me believe in ghosts. Just tell me what you want. Is it money?” He pulled out his wallet, removed some cash, and shook it. Spanky ignored it.

  “Seriously, what do you want from me? It’s obvious that you’re bigger than me. If you wanted to kick my ass, you would have done it already. Just tell me what you want.”

  Discouraged, Spanky shook his head. “Perhaps you need more convincing.” He walked to within a few feet of a wall. His right knee bent, and he planted his clown-shoed foot flat against the wall. His body tilted back until he was parallel to the floor, appearing to stick out from the wall two feet from the ground. His left foot moved in front of his right and he proceeded to walk up the wall to the ceiling. From there, he continued to defy the laws of gravity by stepping on the ceiling. Upside down, he walked halfway across the room and crouched above Dave until his inverted head was level with Dave’s.

  “I’m listening,” Dave said.

  Spanky started to explain the rules. “From this point on, you will be nice to everyone in your life. You won’t hurt anyone physically or emotionally. You won’t cheat on your wife. You will be nicer than the nicest person you ever met.”

  “Whoa! I admit that I’ve made some mistakes, but I’m not a bad person. I’m starting to think maybe you were sent to the wrong person,” Dave said.

  Spanky listened to his plea as he stretched his legs and moved across the ceiling, down the wall, and back to the floor. He walked past Dave and relaxed on the couch.

  “The source of my power comes from my statue. You are forbidden from making any attempts to destroy it—and me. You must not tell anyone about me and you cannot try to enlist the help of others to destroy my statue. If you choose to break these rules, there will be consequences.”

  Dave interrupted, “Consequences. What consequences?”

  “Let’s just say, they don’t call me Spanky for nothing. Do yourself a favor and follow my rules.”

  “I still think you got the wrong guy,” Dave said. “Tell you what. I was going to break it off with Debbie anyway. I won’t cheat on my wife anymore. Why don’t we just say your job here is done and leave me alone? I really don’t need any help being a nice guy. Everyone loves me. Seriously, I’m one of the most popular people you’ll ever meet. I’m the top salesman at work because my customers love me. Hell, I was voted most popular in my senior year. If you don’t believe me, I’ll prove it. Let me go home and get my yearbook.”

  Spanky shook his head and sighed. “This one’s head is thick,” he mumbled to himself. “You are the right person. That is blatantly obvious. You really are an asshole, Dave. But don’t worry, Spanky is here to change that.”

  Although Dave knew he was out-muscled and powerless against Spanky’s supernatural abilities, the narcissist in him wasn’t capable of admitting to having any personal flaws. He was also incapable of understanding the concept of surrender. As he stood in the center of the room between Spanky and his figure on the kitchen table, a light bulb of inspiration struck. He slowly moved toward the kitchen, testing his range.

  “So, you’re telling me that this sculpture over here…” he said as he cautiously reached for the figure. Spanky remained seated, unconcerned with Dave’s closing proximity to the very source of his powers.

  Dave gently picked up the figure and continued. “This is where your power comes from?”

  “Yes,” Spanky replied.

  “And if this gets destroyed, you’re telling me that you will also be destroyed? You won’t exist, and you’ll be out of my life for good?” he said with a confident grin.

  “Yes, for the most part,” Spanky replied.

  “What do you mean? It’s either yes or no. If this is destroyed, will you be gone or what?”

  “Yes, unless another is made and somebody else gives it to you. It can’t be the same person.”

  “Okay, good to know,” Dave said. “So tell me, how many of these exist?”

  Spanky grew uncomfortable with Dave’s line of questioning. He stood and took a few steps toward Dave. He stopped when Dave held the figure out like a crucifix to a vampire.

  “That is the only one, Dave,” Spanky said. “There are no others, and I’m not sure I like where you are going with these questions. I hope you aren’t thinking about destroying me. You might not succeed and that would result in a punishment for disobeying the rules.”

  “Stay where you are,” Dave commanded.

  Spanky put his palms out to calm him. “Okay, relax, Dave. I’m not going to come any closer. Don’t do anything rash. Let’s just calm down and think for a minute.”

  Dave smirked. “Looks like you misjudged me, clown. You thought I was too stupid to figure out how to get the upper hand, didn’t you?”

  “Please be careful. It’s extremely fragile,” Spanky pleaded.

  With one hand holding the figure, Dave used his free hand to retrieve a meat tenderizer from a nearby jar filled with kitchen utensils. His eyes locked Spanky in place as he slipped sideways to the table. Gripping the figure by the legs, he held it face down near the edge of the table and raised the tenderizer above his head. Before striking the deadly blow, he looked back at the terrified spirit, frozen across the room. Dave smiled and offered Spanky some parting wisdom. “Now it’s my turn to lay out some rules. Here’s one I learned in football. Always protect the quarterback.”

  “Consider the consequences,” Spanky warned.

  “Ha!” Dave shouted. “Still making threats? Take a good look, freak. Your nuts are in my hand and I’m about to crush them and sprinkle them on ice cream.” Instinctively, Spanky’s hands lowered to cup his crotch.

  “That’s right,” Dave said. “You’re mine, bitch! You never should have told me where your power comes from. That’s my other rule. Never expose your weakness. I can’t believe how stupid you are. When you expose your weaknesses, you’ll get crushed.” Dave grinned and kept his eyes locked on Spanky as the heavy tool thrust downward. Spanky smiled before vanishing in the blink of an eye.

  The arms of the figure in Dave’s hand reached out for the edge of the table and pulled, dragging Dave’s hand directly under the force of the jagged side of the tenderizer.

  “FUCK!” Dave shouted, dropping the tenderizer and the figure on the table. His pain dance brought him into the living room. With his body bent over, he used his good hand to cover and press the blood-speckled wound tight into his gut.

  “Your rules are useless if you don’t live by them,” Spanky said from behind.

  Dave turned to see the spirit back in the room with him. Through a mixed expression of pain and confusion he muttered, “Wha?”

  Spanky smiled. “Never expose your weakness. Arrogance is your greatest weakness. Yet you wear it with pride and give it a new name. You call itconfidence. Confidence needs no introduction upon entering a room. Arrogance demands complete attention before announcing his own arrival.”

  Muffled by pain and anger, Dave didn’t hear Spanky’s words. “You broke my fucking hand,” he cried out.

  “I didn’t do anything to your hand. You bruised it yourself,” Spanky replied. “It will heal. And so will your other wounds. They will all heal in time.”

  Dave uncovered his hand, stretched out the fingers, and made a fist. To his relief, Spanky was right; no bones were broken. He looked at Spanky with a new concern. “Wait, what other wounds?”

  “So you are listening,” Spanky chuckled. “I warned you what would happen
if you tried to destroy my figure. Now it’s time for your punishment.”

  Dave sprung in the direction of the door but Spanky stopped him with a grip on the back of his shirt. Dave struggled to escape, but Spanky effortlessly dragged him and flung him face down on the kitchen table. Thrashing to get free, Dave was no match for Spanky’s single hand pressed into his back, pinning him in place.

  “Help!” Dave screamed. Spanky untied the ball-size nose from his face and shoved it in Dave’s mouth. He mounted Dave like a saddle and used both hands to securely tie the gag behind his head. Next, he removed his rope belt and hogtied Dave’s limbs.

  Dave moaned and wriggled, to no avail. He was trapped face down with his mouth gagged. Spanky took his time. Before commencing with the beating, he bent over to Dave’s face and said, “It’s time to review the rules. But first, I think you deserve a little more humiliation.” He returned upright and walked to the back of the table. Then he reached around to Dave’s belt and unclasped it along with the button and zipper of his pants. Dave moaned louder as he feared the worst. Spanky yanked Dave’s pants down to reveal his bare ass. Again, Dave moaned. Tears poured down his face.

  “Relax,” Spanky said. “I’m not going to rape you—this time. However, you won’t be so lucky the next time you defy me.”

  Then Spanky grabbed the rope between his arms and legs and shoved them to the side, clearing the airspace between Dave’s bare ass and Spanky’s other distortedly enlarged hand cocked behind him.

  From the corner of his eye, Dave saw the hand flash towards his exposed flesh. WHACK!

  “Oomph!” Dave’s body clenched. Muffled whimpers and drool leaked from around the clown nose stuffed in his mouth.

  Spanky’s arm pulled back for the next blow as he said, “Rule number one—”

  Chapter 15

  “Believe only,” Alan whispered to himself while driving. He was second-guessing himself on the wisdom of giving the Spanky figure to Dave instead of following his original plan to give it to Lyle. Lyle was a threat to him, but Debbie would be helpless if Dave actually snapped and decided to take his aggression out on her. He knew he could deal with Lyle another time or another way, but Debbie wasn’t even aware of the danger she was in so it was the right choice.

  His only concern was the results of the three Guild figures he created and distributed. Would they work? Would they help people or would they just scare them with their creepy clown faces?

  While pondering those questions, he drove past Old Lady Henderson’s Hidden Valley neighborhood. “One way to find out,” he muttered. He turned the car around and drove back to Hidden Valley.

  This would be the perfect opportunity to discover the effectiveness of Peepers, he thought. He imagined how his visit might go. The first thing he would see as he pulled into her driveway would be the curtains pulled back, flooding the house with light. Foil would be removed from the windows and the door would be garlic free. Seconds after he rang her bell, Mrs. Henderson would fling the door wide open. She would warmly greet him with a smile and invite him inside for tea and biscuits.

  Inside, he envisioned the Peepers figure prominently displayed on a shelf. No, it would be where all old people like to display treasured family photos and mementos—Peepers would take center place on her upright piano. If possible, Peepers might even give him a wink and Alan would be assured that he wasn’t crazy for believing in the power of the Guild spirits.

  He turned into her street and noticed flashing blue lights in the direction of Mrs. Henderson’s house. As he got closer, he realized the lights were from emergency vehicles in her driveway.

  “What the hell is going on?” he said as he parked his car on the street outside her house. He watched as two EMTs wheeled a gurney with a draped body from the house. He knew it could only be Mrs. Henderson. Two police officers exited the house shortly after. One was Alan’s brother, Dale.

  Alan exited his car and called out to his brother.

  “Alan, what’s up, bro? Got a delivery in the neighborhood?”

  Alan didn’t answer Dale’s question. He was more interested in what happened to Mrs. Henderson. “What’s going on? Was that Mrs. Henderson?”

  “Oh, so you knew her. Uh, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but yes. She died last night.”

  “Oh my god! I was just here last night. She didn’t answer the door when I rang the bell, but I just assumed she was asleep or too scared.”

  Dale looked puzzled. “Too scared?” he repeated.

  Alan wasn’t thinking clearly. It didn’t occur to him that Dale was unaware of her problems.

  “Yeah, well, no. I’m not saying she was scared of me. She was scared of everyone. She doesn’t, eh, didn’t, open the door for anyone. I delivered pizzas and she slipped the money through the mail slot in an envelope.”

  Dale laughed. “You mean there was actually someone worse than you?”

  “C’mon! Be serious, Dale,” Alan said.

  Dale held back his laughter. “I know. You’re right. I shouldn’t be joking about this. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “So, what happened? Was she gone when I got here last night? That would explain why she didn’t respond when I left the pizza. I knew something was wrong. I’m such an idiot. I should have done something. Maybe it wasn’t too late.”

  “Hold up, Alan. First of all, she was okay when you delivered the pizza so you didn’t do anything wrong. She died of natural causes. She was an old woman and her heart gave out. That’s life. She was lucky to live so long.”

  “How do you know she was okay when I showed up?”

  Dale smirked. “You might not be aware of this, but your brother here is an excellent detective and forensic scientist. I was able to ascertain the approximate time of death, based on decomp, liver temperature, and a careful examination of the evidence. The deceased passed post-pizza delivery.”

  Alan’s mouth dropped and Dale cracked a smile and then laughed. “Oh, and there was a half-eaten slice of pizza in the kitchen. She lived alone, so my guess is she ate it.”

  Alan didn’t share in Dale’s amusement over his own joke. Instead, his focus shifted to the Peepers figure. Was he responsible for her death? After all, she was alive when he delivered the pizza. Then she died the very night he showed up with Peepers. Could it be that she became too frightened as a result of looking at his ugly face? Or was there was something more sinister going on? His heart raced from the possibility that he might have been responsible for her death. He needed to know what happened. Where was the Peepers figure? Did she even take it in the house with her?

  “Dale! Did you see anything strange in there?

  “You’re starting to worry me, Alan. Strange like what? Why would you even ask a question like that?”

  Alan realized how odd his question must have sounded to his brother, the detective. Even if the figure were inside, how would Dale know this was the strange thing he was asking about? More importantly, how would Alan know about the figure, and why was he so interested?

  He covered for his flawed choice of words by saying, “I don’t know. It’s just that after her husband died, she never opened the door. I’ve always wondered if maybe she had him stuffed, and positioned on the couch, reading a paper and smoking a pipe.”

  “Yeah, that would be strange. You have a wild imagination. The things you come out with. Anyway, to answer your question, no, there wasn’t anything even remotely as strange as your imagination. She wasn’t a hoarder. There weren’t any cats, and the house was surprisingly clean.”

  “Well, that’s good to know. With all the aluminum on the windows, I thought she might have a house full of stuff to ward off evil spirits. You know, like a shelf full of troll figures, or other creepy statues.”

  “Again, sorry to disappoint you, but she didn’t have any of those things. Oh wait, I’m wrong.”

  “What? What did you see?” Alan asked.

  “Well, there was this one thing you might consider to be a lit
tle odd.”

  “Tell me! What was it?”

  “On a shelf in her living room—”

  “What?”

  “Keep your pants on. Maybe it was nothing, but it did cause me to do a double-take when I saw it.”

  “Dale! What was it already? What did you see?”

  “I’m getting to it. On the shelf in the living room she had a—wireless router.”

  “What the hell is so strange about that?” Alan said.

  “Well, she must have been, like a hundred years old. How many hundred-year-old ladies do you know that know how to use a computer? I’m telling you, WiFi, that was really strange.”

  Frustrated with Dale’s success in stringing him along for the anti-climatic answer to his question, Alan felt that it was safe to assume Peepers wasn’t in the house. He couldn’t have set it up any more clearly without appearing suspicious of something. The only thing he could do was backtrack to be sure Peepers and the Guild weren’t misleading him. There were two more figures out there and he had to move fast so nobody else would potentially get hurt.

  Alan told Dale he had to get back to work. Before Dale could say goodbye, Dale’s cell phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and sighed. “It’s Cheryl, hang on a sec.”

  This was good news for Alan because it meant she was alive. However, was it possible she was calling for help? Was Agor tormenting her, when she somehow managed to break free and call Dale?

  “Hello, baby. What’s up?” Dale said.

  Here it is, Alan thought. She’s going to cry out in distress.

  “Sure, honey, milk and eggs, anything else?”

  Not a distress call. Thank god.

  “Oh, by the way, Cheryl,” Dale said as he turned toward Alan, “you did a great job on Alan’s hair.” He paused and smiled at Alan.

  “Yes, I’m looking at it right now. He saw me on the job and stopped to say hi.”

  “Tell her I said hi,” Alan said.

  Dale held out his finger as he tried to hear what Cheryl was saying.

  “Yes, I know. Well, you did your part. Now it’s in his hands. He’s a little rusty, but I’m sure he’ll do fine.”

  Alan leaned toward Dale and whispered, “Hey, I have to get going. Tell her I’ll let her know how the date goes.” He loped to his car and drove away. In his rearview mirror, he saw Dale still chatting with Cheryl.