The Guild of Fallen Clowns (6 page)

Something inside Alan took over. Maybe it
was the strange and almost mystical setting with all of the smoke
and mirrors. Or maybe it was the lifelike projection of a familiar
character from Clown World standing in front of him. Whatever it
was, Alan temporarily lost his sense of reality and acted as if he
were back in his virtual world character of Boogy. The
real
Alan could never be so bold.

Peepers apparently wasn’t interested in
playing Clown World, or Alan’s
new
game any longer. He
needed to snap him back to reality—the reality where the sight of
Peeper’s ghostly image in front of him would make him numb with
fear.

He lowered his face to Alan’s and growled,
“Clown World not real. Boogy character dead. Now, only Peepers and
Alan. Time for games over.”

The sensation of Peepers’ hot breath
snorting through his bulbously disfigured black clown nose into his
face was unlike anything Alan had ever experienced in Clown
World—or any world. Terror returned as he realized Peepers was real
and he was trapped.

A look of pleasure spread over Peepers’ face
as he watched the fear return to Alan’s painted face.

“Yes, that’s where Alan must be. Does Alan
fear Peepers?” he asked.

Alan’s emotions were still filled with a
mixture of fear, confusion, and anger. Most of all, he didn’t
understand why Peepers had lured him there. What was he saying
about them helping each other? Nothing made sense.

“Maybe,” he quivered.

Peepers’ large eyes lowered to Alan’s
trembling legs. He laughed and returned his glare to Alan’s
wondering eyes.

“Yes,” Peepers whispered. His head bobbed to
match the erratic movement of Alan’s eyes as he tried desperately
to avoid visual contact with his ghost. “Peepers help Alan with his
fear.”

Alan stopped looking away and met Peepers’
stare. “Help me? Like you helped me in Clown World?”

Peepers’ laughter subsided. “The game not
real. Peepers help Alan in real world,” he said.

“I know it’s not real. I’m not stupid. But I
enjoyed it, and you took that from me.”

“ Peepers and the guild real. We help Alan
grow strong with real power—in real life.”

Alan shook his head. “What does that even
mean? I don’t know what you can possibly want from me. You already
pointed out how the only place I had any power at all was in Clown
World. A computer game that isn’t real. How the hell can I help
you?”

“Alan strong in spirit world. Peepers need
his spirit power to earn light.”

Still oblivious to what the ghost was
saying, Alan said, “What light? Stop speaking in riddles.”

“Peepers—and the guild—sinned. Must atone.
Earn light. Peepers help Alan with weakness in his world.”

“What light? What weakness? What guild? What
do you want from me?”

“Peepers help Alan grow strong. Alan help
Peepers grow strong,” Peepers said before his figure glided back
through the mirrors and faded into the dark cloud of smoke.

The lights of the Labyrinth glowed brighter.
Alan looked around for signs of life, or spirits of once living
things. Seeing the coast, and ghost, was clear, he walked back to
where he remembered the front entrance was before melding in with
the rest of the mirrored panels. A nearby panel clicked and the
exit door opened. His paced quickened as he rushed out of the
building. He looked away as he passed Geno, who was training a
ticket taker near the gates of the Labyrinth.

I need to tell Cracky this isn’t going to
work out. I can’t work here with a ghost,
he thought as he
stormed toward the ticket booth near the carnival’s entrance. He
made it about halfway when a stampede of guests rumbled toward him.
Passing up a dozen other opportunities to be first in line, the
crowd was singularly focused on making the Haunted Labyrinth of
Mirrors their first attraction of the day. He tried to get out of
their way, but it was too late. It was like he was standing in the
ocean with a giant wave heading toward him. If he tried to fight
it, he would get swept up and dragged back to the Labyrinth.
Instead, he ducked and tucked his knees and elbows tight to his
body. The human wall flowed around him.

That was close. I wonder if Peepers had
anything to do with that. Maybe he wanted to use them to drag me
back there.

The ticket booth came into sight and he
could see Cracky inside, tending to a line of eager customers.
Lines for each booth were long, as the gates had opened minutes
earlier. Through the side door window, Cracky noticed Alan
approaching and waved him over.

He’s relying on me. What am I going to
tell him? I can’t tell him the truth. He’ll think I’m crazier than
that Ringmaster guy. How am I going to get out of this?
Alan
wondered as he stepped up to the side door of the booth.

Cracky opened the door. “Hey, Boog, be with
you in a sec,” he said before returning his attention to a couple
of eight-year-old boys pulling loose change and crumpled bills from
their pockets. Placing the money in a combined heap on the shelf in
front of the half-circle opening, they continued searching their
pockets for one more quarter.

“We need ten tickets for the Zipper. Just
one more quarter,” said one of the boys as he rooted through his
own pockets.

The other boy looked at the pile and said,
“Are you sure you counted it right? Maybe we should count it
again.”

Cracky took advantage of their preoccupation
by sneaking a puff from a lit cigarette inside the booth. Then,
with a slight head turn, he shifted his lips to the side of his
face and exhaled the smoke to the back of the cramped booth.

By now, the boys’ pockets were pulled out
like rabbit ears. They didn’t have the extra quarter needed to ride
the Zipper. Standing outside the open door, Alan tried working a
hand through his clown costume to the front pocket of his jeans.
Before he found the necessary twenty-five cents, Cracky exchanged
the money on the shelf with ten tickets. The boys, still unaware of
the exchange, debated over whose mother they would beg for the
additional quarter.

“Boys!” Cracky broke in.

They looked up. Without saying a word,
Cracky nodded and looked down to the tickets. The boys’ eyes
followed. Their jaws dropped as their mental counts confirmed they
had the required amount for the Zipper.

“Awesome! Ten tickets,” said one of the
boys.

The other boy snatched the tickets and
shouted, “Thank you, mister.” They turned and howled as they ran in
the direction of the Zipper.

Cracky pulled a quarter from his pocket and
added it to till. He looked back at Alan and said, “Don’t tell
anyone you saw me smoking in here.”

“You’re a good man, Cracky,” Alan said with
a smile.

Ignoring the compliment, Cracky changed the
subject. “Guess what we need you to do?” he grinned. He reached
under the shelf in front of him and pulled out a bag of
balloons.

“Um—poodle patrol,” Alan replied.

“You got it. Poodles, giraffes, monkeys,
hookers, whatever makes ’em happy.”

“You’ll have to teach me how to do that last
one, Cracky,” Alan snickered as he took the bag.

“Oh, Boogy, you don’t know dat one?” Cracky
asked. “Dat’s da best one of ’em all. It’s da only one you can
charge money for.”

“I’m starting to see why they call you
Cracky. You’re a funny guy.”

“I wish!” Cracky blurted out with a chuckle.
“They call me Cracky ’cause before dis gig, I worked as a plumber’s
assistant.”

Alan laughed as he moved away, allowing
Cracky to get back to work.

Why didn’t I tell him? I just took these
balloons and laughed at his joke before walking away. What the hell
is wrong with me? Maybe Peepers was right. Maybe I do need help. I
don’t even have the guts to quit a job I haven’t even started.

“Hey, Boogy,” Cracky yelled with his hand on
the doorknob. “Remember, work da crowd near da Labyrinth.” The door
closed and Cracky went back to selling tickets.

Alan gave him the thumbs-up and started a
slow walk back in the direction of the Labyrinth.

The Labyrinth, of course.
It was too
late to turn back and tell Cracky he couldn’t work there. That
opportunity expired the second he accepted the balloons. Now he had
no choice but to return to the Labyrinth, where minutes before, he
was face-to-face with Peepers.

He did say “near” the Labyrinth. He
didn’t say anything about going inside. Maybe I can do this,
he
thought to himself as the Labyrinth came into sight.
I just
won’t go inside again. If they ask me to deliver another package to
Geno, I’ll refuse. What will they do, fire me? I was going to quit
anyway, so who cares? I’ll stay outside where all the people are.
That should be fine. I can do this.

The area outside the Labyrinth was packed
with people. The line extended far outside the gates, while others
waited for friends and family to exit the building. Nobody looked
particularly horrified. Groups of young kids celebrated their
shared experiences as they exited the notorious attraction. It was
clear that none had witnessed the same haunting as his own. Nobody
would come out laughing after a face-to-face with Peepers.

Alan got to work as Boogy the Clown. He
pulled a long red balloon from his pocket, gave it a couple of
quick stretches, and started blowing into it.

*****

Inside the Labyrinth, four pre-teen girls
entered the Rat Room with arms locked, their feet lost in the knee
high fog. They were so tightly bonded; their legs didn’t appear to
be moving as they glided toward the center of the six-foot-diameter
space. The room had two openings, with the entry behind and the
exit directly in front of them.

Geno observed from the catwalk structure
above, hidden from view in the darkness behind the black mesh
fabric ceiling, looking for his opportunity to provide human
assistance to a host of automated effects. He started by pulling a
lever, which closed the exit door in front of the girls. They
screamed simultaneously. As the computer dimmed the lights, Geno
pulled another lever, locking the opening behind them. The girls
trembled, waiting to see what was in store. Suddenly, they heard
the faint screeching of a single rat, then more rats as the sound
amplified. Projections of rats began to jump out from the fog.

The girls’ high-pitched screaming was music
to Geno’s ears. With the flick of a switch, he bypassed the preset
volume control, allowing him to double the decibels. The girls
became so frightened by the sounds and images that they faced each
other screaming and cupping their ears to block out the terrifying
rat screeches.

Geno was elated at his power to elicit panic
from the unsuspecting gaggle below. He had them where he wanted. He
flicked off the floor lights and the room went completely dark.
Then he grabbed a long hand crank mounted to the catwalk and
started churning the handle. This turned gears positioned every two
feet around the room. The gears rotated spindles, which spanned to
the floor of the Labyrinth. Attached to the spindles were long
leather strips. The thin strips spun, slapping the legs of the
girls and giving them the sensation of rat tails racing around
their feet. Their screams and cries intensified. Geno soaked up
their fright like a drug addict absorbing a fresh injection of
heroin.

Within seconds, the computer turned off the
projections and sounds. Geno restored the floor lighting and opened
the exit door. The girls’ grip on each other broke as they made a
mad dash for the exit. Their frantic shrieks cleared others from
their path. Disorientation from the mirrors confused and frightened
them to ever increasing depths of horror. Geno followed from above,
redirecting them by turning wall panels in their path. He herded
them to another part of the Labyrinth. The girls now became the
rats, unable to find the exit to his maze.

Ignoring all other guests, he relentlessly
tormented the fragile girls. He shouted at them through a bullhorn,
telling them they would never escape. Finally, he had them
cornered. The girls squeezed together, crying and pleading for
their freedom. Geno backed off and turned up the lights. Mirrored
panels reflected dozens of weeping girls. The voice from above
said, “Do you want out?” Emotionally and physically drained, they
nodded submissively as each mumbled, “Yes.”

Geno paused to suck in every satisfying
second of his achievement before he opened a panel into another
compartment. Through the room was an open door to the outside.
Relieved, the girls cautiously walked toward the daylight. As the
last one entered the room, they discovered the opening was actually
a reflection in a mirror. The doors shut and through his bullhorn,
Geno said, “Welcome
back
to the Rat Room.”

The lights went out and the girls screamed
at the top of their lungs one last time before dropping to the
floor in surrender. The lights come back on and a door opened to
the outside. The girls remained clumped together on the floor,
afraid to move. Unable to discern illusion from reality, they
didn’t trust their eyes. It took them a full two minutes before
they discovered this to be an actual exit. Geno sapped as much
nectar of sweet terror as he could from them. He was already on the
prowl for his next rush.

*****

Tying off a long green balloon, Boogy asked
a four-year-old boy if he liked monkeys. The boy nodded and smiled
wide. Alan proceeded to bend and twist the balloon. The boy stared
in amazement as the balloon started to take shape. Taking advantage
of his trance, his mother slipped the stuffed dinosaur out from
under his arm to free up his hands for the green monkey. She handed
the dinosaur off to the father for safekeeping.

The father turned, alerted by the sounds of
sobbing girls approaching from behind.