The Guild of Fallen Clowns

by Francis Xavier

  “If it’s all da same to you, no thanks. I can take care of myself.”

  “Are you sure? Peepers has some unnatural powers. This might help level the field.”

  “No, please put it away, Boog. I’m good,” Cracky said.

  Alan returned the figure to his pocket. “All right, my guess is that Dale will be in the lower section. Peepers always showed himself to me down there when he came through the mirrors.”

  “Wait, when you say he came through the mirrors, do you mean he walked around them?” Lyle asked.

  “No, he can exist both inside and outside the mirrors,” Alan replied. He continued as if there was nothing unusual about his explanation. “I’m also assuming the molds are hidden away up above. Cracky, how do I get up there and what will I see?”

  “You mean up in Geno’s lair?” Cracky replied.

  “Seriously? You just made that up, didn’t you?” Alan said.

  “No, I’ve always called it dat because Geno is da evil genius behind da Labyrinth. If it makes you feel any better, I can call it da nest. Dat’s what it used to be called.”

  “No, it’s fine. So, tell me about—Geno’s lair. How do I get up there?”

  “You’ll have to go in through the back,” Cracky said. He fished a key ring from his pocket and searched through at least fifty keys before taking one off and handing it to Alan. “I hope dis still works. I haven’t been up dare in years. Once you’re in, you’ll see a spiral staircase to da lair. Be careful, dough, because you might get spotted if da mirror is open.”

  “What mirror?” Alan said.

  “Right in front of you is da mirror dat swivels into da big room. If it’s turned, Geno might see you. You wanna slip in very quiet like, and stay to da left. At da top of da steps you’ll see da entire floor is made of metal grates so he can see down into da Labyrinth. It’s sorta like a wheel wid spokes, but the spoke from da stairs is wider den da others. Dat’s where he stores stuff. Dose molds might be on dat one. Den, in da middle, is a round area where he controls everythin’ down below. Other spokes go out from da middle so he can move out ta see what’s going on as he changes up da mirrored walls. It’s pretty ingenious, if you ask me. You can see why I call it his lair.”

  “Yeah, makes perfect sense,” Alan said. He turned his attention to Lyle. “Are you sure you want to do this, Lyle? You’ve already helped me more than I could have ever imagined. You don’t owe me anything.”

  Lyle smiled. “First of all, stop calling me by my street name. I’m Popsicle. Second, stop thinking this is about you. There’s a killer clown on the loose, and we—you, me, and Cracky—are the best chance of stopping him. This may be new for me, but you aren’t the only person who wants to do the right thing. So stop making this about you and let’s go save Gotham.” He reached his closed fist up between Alan and Cracky.

  A triple fist bump later, they dispersed. Cracky and Lyle went for the front door while Alan slipped around back.

  Chapter 33

  Lyle led the way as he and Cracky crept down the dark corridor toward the opening to the large chamber. Halfway, Cracky bumped into Lyle, who stopped to retrieve the Poppy figure from his pocket.

  “Hang on, Cracky,” Lyle whispered. “This is a good time to introduce you to my dad.” He stretched his hand with the figure out in front of him. Nothing happened.

  “I thought you said it comes ta life,” Cracky replied.

  Lyle gave it a few hard shakes and waited. Again, nothing happened.

  “Did you break it?” Cracky asked.

  Lyle pulled it back to examine the figure. Cracky’s large body behind him blocked the limited light from the slit in the entry door. He looked to the sides of Cracky, but his wide shoulders and enormous chest left no room for him to step aside to allow light to pass. Lyle bent down and held the figure to the light slipping between his large legs. Cracky spread his legs, each foot pressed against opposite walls.

  “Is der a button?” Cracky asked.

  “No, there’s no button,” Lyle scoffed. “And it’s not broken.” He shook it again and looked over his shoulder. “I don’t understand. It worked before.”

  “Is there a magic word? Oh, maybe you gotta rub it,” Cracky said.

  Rub it? Are you crazy? My father would tan my hide if I tried that,” Lyle replied.

  *****

  The door was locked so Alan reached the key toward the lock. As he flipped it into the proper direction, the key slipped between his fingers. It bobbled between the fingers of both hands before it escaped and fell to his feet, where it bounced three times on the metal grate before falling through to the dirt below.

  “Come on, Alan, hold yourself together,” he muttered as he started down the steps in search of the key.

  *****

  “I told you, it only works for me,” Lyle said, yanking the figure away from Cracky’s rubbing hands.

  “Well, it ain’t workin’ for you neither, Popsicle. I say you put it back in your pocket and we keep movin’.”

  “Okay,” Lyle said. He returned the figure to his pocket and continued to the end of the hall.

  With one hand in front of him, and the other feeling for Cracky behind him, Lyle stopped short of the doorway. “It’s pitch dark. I can’t see a thing,” he whispered.

  “Just keep goin’. Our eyes should adjust soon,” Cracky said.

  They continued into the room. Lyle’s fingers lost touch with Cracky.

  Oh, sorry, pal, I thought you went da udder way,” Cracky said quietly.

  “Sorry for what? I’m over here,” Lyle replied from behind and to the left of Cracky.

  The mirrored walls remained dark as dim light glowed throughout the space. Cracky’s head was turned back to where he heard Lyle’s voice. Upon seeing Lyle, he jumped back from whomever it was he bumped into in the dark. Lyle’s father stood with his back to them. With his fists held out in front of him, he stared straight ahead at three Peepers lined up in front of their three prisoners bound and gagged in folding metal chairs against the opposite wall.

  “He’s with us,” Lyle said, pointing to his father as he tightly gripped its figure in his other hand.

  “You found da button,” Cracky said. “Now what?”

  *****

  Alan grabbed the key from the dirt and returned to his feet. He pulled a black tarp off a stacked pile of pallets against the back fence and dragged it up the steps with him. With a firm grip on the key, he slid it in the lock and turned it. Before opening the door, he hooked a corner of the tarp over a bent corner of metal siding above the hinged side of the door. He held the other side above the door with his free hand, then kicked it out at his feet to spread it as wide as possible. Feeling confident that the tarp would block daylight from his opening of the door, he slowly pulled the handle until the door was opened enough for him to slip inside. He released the tarp and braced the door with his hand as he eased it back to a closed position.

  Inside, Alan stood in total darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The first thing that came into focus was a long floor to ceiling line of dim light in front of him. That must be the panel Cracky told me about that leads into the mirrored room, he thought.

  Seconds later, the light illuminated the corkscrew handrail of the spiral staircase leading to Geno’s lair. So far, Cracky’s intel was accurate. As his eyes continued to adjust to the darkness, the steps came into view and he moved his right foot on the first stair. As he rose to the next step, he heard Lyle shout, “Get them, Pops!” Alan stepped off the stair and moved to peer through the crack of light.

  *****

  Lyle’s father stood firm as the three Peepers stepped toward him. “Even you know I can’t take ’em all, Stinky. Get out of here. Save yourself,” Lyle’s father ordered.

  From behind the panel, Alan reached for his pocket and pulled out his Poppy. He threw his shoulder into the panel, which offered zero resistance, and stumbled into the room. Instantly, his father appeared and guarded him as he moved
toward his friends.

  Lyle looked at Alan’s father. “Why did he change?”

  Alan studied the vision. When he appeared in Dave’s basement, he had to duck his head in order to fit. Inside the Labyrinth, he wasn’t much taller than himself. Alan glanced back to Lyle’s father and didn’t see any noticeable changes. His appearance was identical to when he came out in Lyle’s apartment and Dave’s basement.

  Alan should have been focused on the three-to-two odds against them taking place in front of him, but instead, he tried to find an answer Lyle’s question. He stared at his father and wondered what could have happened to cause him to shrink in size. This was of major concern to Alan because he needed the much larger version of his father to battle the Peepers.

  As he stared at his back, his father’s head turned. He smiled and said, “It’s not me, son. It’s you.” Then he turned back to stand against the trio of Peepers.

  With his own fists prepared to fight, Cracky became nervous with the three Peepers stepping closer, spreading apart in a half circle around them. “Hey Boog, I changed my mind. How ’bout you make dis reunion complete and gimme dat little thing you showed me before.”

  No further explanation was required as Alan reached to his other pocket and grabbed the third Poppy figure. With his hand barely out of his pocket, Cracky yanked it from him, held it out, and shook the dickens out of it.

  “C’mon, show yourself,” Cracky commanded.

  He didn’t have to wait long before a massive, muscle-bound man wearing wrestling tights appeared between Alan’s and Lyle’s fathers. His size was so large that his appearance almost knocked them over. The Peepers stopped and watched as the new father stumbled and leaned on the other fathers for support.

  Cracky’s father turned back and smiled at his son. “How many times do I have to tell you not to shake me out of a sound sleep, boy?”

  “Sorry, Pops,” Cracky replied. “Wait, how’s dis possible?”

  “It’s not really him, Cracky. It’s your memory of him,” Alan said.

  “My memory?”

  “Yes, looks like you have a great memory,” Alan replied as he took in the sight of the giant man. Lyle gave Cracky a satisfied slap on the back.

  As Alan, Lyle, and their dads gained a new confidence over the sudden reversal of odds in the fight, Cracky frowned. His father’s brief time of stability gave way to a drunken display of rubber legs and slurred speech.

  “Next rounds’r on me!” Cracky’s father stammered.

  Alan shot a look at Cracky. Embarrassed, Cracky shrugged and said, “I’m sorry, Boog. My father was a drunk. Dis is how I remember him.”

  “Was he always drunk?” Alan asked with great concern as he watched the Peepers grow more emboldened over the sudden turn of events.

  “No, not always, but almost,” Cracky replied.

  “Okay, good,” Alan said. “Think of a time when he wasn’t drunk. Can you do that?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Cracky said as he closed his eyes and concentrated.

  The image of his father stabilized. His tights transformed into a two-piece suit with six-inch wide strips of patchwork fabric splitting the seams, looking as if they had been sewn in by a novice tailor in a hasty attempt to alter the garments to fit his enormous build.

  “Much better,” Alan said.

  Cracky’s eyes opened. Upon seeing the new version of his father, he smiled. “Mom’s funeral.”

  The three Peepers backed up to their original positions in front of Dale, Ringmaster, and Joe. The Peepers attached to Joe turned and looked past Joe to the mirrored panels. His hands lifted and the dim lights brightened. “Poppy no match for Peepers and Guild of Fallen Clowns.”

  Circus music returned as Guild members appeared to step through a thick white fog ten feet into the mirrors. A gang of approximately thirty grotesquely twisted clown depictions amassed at the edge of the two realms behind Dale, Ringmaster, and Joe, energetically pumping their fists, taunting the Poppys, and encouraging the Peepers.

  *****

  Mary cautiously stepped inside and eased the door closed behind her. The pivoting door panel was partially opened about twelve inches from Alan’s recent entrance to the large circular room. She backed herself out of view to the left wall and listened to the commotion of fast-paced organ music mixed with raucous voices all shouting at the same time.

  Assured that she entered unnoticed, she leaned forward to peek into the room. From the left side of the opening, the panel was pivoted into the room, blocking her view of the opposite wall. She first spotted Alan. His body was tense as he stood in full Boogy dress. Beside him stood another man, also dressed as a clown, followed by the easily recognizable stature of the clown-faced Cracky. All had their backs to the mirrored wall. She leaned in further to see more men standing in front of them, like boxers poised to either attack or protect.

  From her position and the tilt of the mirrored door panel, she was unable to see the target of the six men’s gaze, and the source of the loud voices. With the back door closed, the eight-foot-square space was darker than the main chamber. She slid across the back wall to the other side of the space and quietly continued to the front corner. On the other side of the room, the panel swiveled into her space and she didn’t need to lean to the opening for a glimpse inside.

  Taking advantage of the mirror in front of her, she saw the reflections of three men tied to chairs and gagged. Each had the familiar figure of Peepers propped upright on the floor in front of them. Still fresh in her mind was her earlier encounter with a single Peepers figure. She knew this was a deadly serious situation, but the scene before her was puzzling. She leaned slightly to the left and right to see if she missed something because her reflected view of the right half of the room didn’t show any opposition, just three bound men with inanimate figures by their feet.

  *****

  “You can’t fool us, Peepers,” Lyle’s father said.

  “They don’t have the power to escape the mirrors to fight us,” Alan’s father added.

  The Guild jeered. All three Peepers smiled as Joe’s and Ringmaster’s turned to acknowledge the Guild’s disdain for Poppy, using their hands to pump up the intensity of their anger. Still focused on the Poppys, Dale’s Peepers responded with a smug headshake.

  “Now!” Cracky’s father yelled, triggering all three to lunge across the floor toward the three Peepers. Joe’s and Ringmaster’s Peepers didn’t know what hit them as Cracky’s father’s thick arms wrapped around their necks and pulled them to the ground with him. Both of the Peepers turned to mist and started slipping out of his grip. The mist instantly vaporized and didn’t reappear. Lyle’s father stood over the two partially crushed figures, stomping them into the floor. At the same time, Alan’s father rushed the third Peepers, but it narrowly escaped and appeared behind Dale with his arms locked in a death grip around his neck. Alan’s father thudded to the floor. His fingers knocked Dale’s Peepers figure over and it slid under the chair out of his reach. All three Poppys froze.

  “Twitch single muscle, Dale’s neck snaps,” Peepers warned.

  *****

  Still looking at the reflection from the mirrored panel, Mary jumped back from the sight of the three bound men jolting in their chairs as an invisible source crushed two of the Peepers statues into thousands of pieces, while the third fell back and slid below a chair. She jumped to the opposite side of the room to see if anything changed with Alan. The three front men guarding them were gone, but Alan appeared to be okay.

  As she watched, three frightening clown images materialized in the mirrors behind Alan, Cracky, and the third clown. One held up a white-gloved three-fingered hand. The other two watched as three fingers turned to two, then one, and quickly folded to none. All at once, the three projections did something Mary didn’t think was possible. They threw rope lassoes through the mirrors over the figures in the three men’s hands. The images simultaneously yanked, freeing the figures from their grasp
s, and then pulled them through the solid surface of the mirrors.

  Instantly following the figures, the three men previously standing in front of Alan and his two friends came into her view from mid-room as their bodies flew over Alan, Cracky, and Lyle’s ducking heads. The mirrored wall rippled as their bodies passed through without reflection. Alan, Cracky, and Lyle jumped forward and turned as they watched the men fade into the dark depth beyond the surface.

  Without hesitation, two of the Guild clowns inside the mirrors roped Cracky with their lassoes as the third lassoed Lyle. With a tug, their ropes pulled Cracky and Lyle’s arms to their sides. Lyle’s captor dug his oversized blue shoes into the ground and dragged Lyle’s struggling body around the room to the right side of Dale. He pulled in the slack and tied Lyle upright to a panel.

  Cracky’s struggle was more difficult for his two-clown team to overcome. Six more Guild clowns rushed to their aid. They twisted the two ropes together and lined up like they were having a tug of war, the plane of the mirrors acting as a centerline. They proceeded to drag Cracky around the opposite side of the room, where they tied him upright to the left of Joe.

  Alan glanced back in the mirrors, searching the empty mirrors for Guild clowns who would rope and pull him with the others. He returned his focus forward to see Peepers release his death grip on Dale before stepping to his side. Peepers folded his arms over his chest and stared back at Alan.

  The volume notched up. The mob of Guild clowns began clapping in unison as they hooted and whistled. Their heads all turned toward the center, to the mirror behind Ringmaster. They shifted to the sides, opening a four-foot-wide path.

  All eyes watched as a figure began to appear from the darkness. It was another Peepers. He moved through the mirror’s surface and stood behind Ringmaster, where he paused and looked down at the obstacle in front of him. His right foot rose and rested on the back of Ringmaster’s chair. Ringmaster shuddered from the vibration on his back. Peepers glared back at Alan and grinned wide. Then, with a sudden shove of Peepers’ leg, the bound Ringmaster was propelled face first to the floor. From behind the gag, muffled pain echoed as his body and chair tipped to the side. Blood dripped from his nostrils.