Colin and The Rise of The House of Horwood

by M. E. Eadie

  Chapter Fourteen: The Clown Master

  Outside, the heat from the sun was melting the patches of frost, converting them into a diaphanous mist that rose into the air; for a moment, the caravans seemed as though they were breathing. Throughout the encampment, people moved sluggishly in the waking patterns of the dawn. They dressed in vivid colors, as though a host of rainbows had willed themselves into human form. The pungent, but pleas-ant, odor of an outdoor cook fire wafted into the air. A tall, muscular man, with long, dark, curly hair, exited his caravan and stopped on the top stair to stretch and yawn. His pants were bright red and he wore a vest of colorful patches. Looking composed, with the authority that comes from being in charge, he glanced around the grounds. He noticed the children standing on the steps of Horwood House and gave them a friendly wave.

  A swell of longing, of nostalgia for Pansy Patch overtook Colin; the welcome “feel” was so like the park, but multiplied many times over. He knew that he belonged here, was absorbed into the color, the fabric of the camp. A beautiful voice, in a strange, haunting dialect, lilted across the yard in song.

  “Look! Over, there!” said Spike excitedly, pointing at what appeared to be Silverberry just disappearing behind one of the caravans. “It’s her!” Unable to restrain himself he bounded down the steps after her.

  Colin wanted to join him, but he couldn’t. Not yet. The man in the patchwork vest and red pants was making his way toward the house, a large smile on his face. As he walked up to Colin and Melissa, he extended his hand and in turn they shook it, then he stood back seeming to appraise them. Even in the low light of the morning, the man’s eyes danced; there was something infectious about him, something that made you instinctively want to laugh, to dance.

  “Welcome to The Circus of the Moon. Maestro and Ofelia have told me all about you. You must be Colin and Melissa.”

  The two of them nodded their heads in unison.

  “My name is Frederick. I’m the Clown Master. Let’s see now, you may call me -- Frederick!” He laughed at his small joke, then, taking hold of their hands and pulling them down the steps, he said, “Come, eat with us.”

  “We already had breakfast, thanks,” said Colin not wanting to impose, but already he was starting to feel hungry again.

  “No, no, you must eat with us! If you’re going to be part of the family, part of the show, you must learn all about us, learn our secrets! Besides, Holdfast will have a fit; he’s expecting you.”

  As they moved through the caravans, Colin wondered if this was just a continuation of Maestro’s lesson. From the way the morning had started, it was going to be anything but a normal day; but then again, if anyone had asked him what normal was, he couldn’t have answered. Maybe they would become clowns too. Somehow he couldn’t impose the typical white-faced, red-nosed image of a clown onto Frederick’s strong features. He looked more like an acrobat or a strong man, but then, he had never seen The Circus of The Moon perform, so he didn’t know what to expect. Once, he and Spike had seen a circus, sneaked in through the entertainer’s exit, but they were intensely disappointed. The peculiar smells, the poor tired elephants and raggedy bears, and the cursing, malcontent clowns had left them with a bad taste in their mouths. Colin didn’t have that feeling now. What curled into the air was expectant and exciting, full of something mysterious. They stepped behind Maestros’ big caravan. A big iron pot hung over a hot fire ringed with stones. Standing over the pot, stirring with a spoon the size of a paddle, was a gigantic bearded man with a wild mane of hair. His eyes glinted like black beetles. His beard, braided into several plaits, hid his massive neck, but did not hide the big grin he gave them as they approached.

  Frederick picked up a flat round of bread from a table set for the meal and began chewing on it. He offered Colin and Melissa a piece, but they shyly declined.

  “That’s Holdfast,” said Frederick nodding at the gigantic man. “He’s also a clown.”

  “Are all clowns so big?” asked Colin.

  Frederick must have swallowed the bread he was chewing on the wrong way, because he began choking on it. In a couple of massive steps, the sizable Holdfast stepped up to Frederick and smacked him on the back, felling Frederick to the ground. Groaning, he lifted himself up to his knees. He wasn’t choking anymore, but tears of laughter were still streaming down his face.

  “Choking on food isn’t a laughing matter, little man!” boomed Holdfast. “A skinny little fellow like you needs all the nourishment he can gather!”

  “No, no, it’s not that. My friend here thinks all our clowns are big.”

  Holdfast started to laugh, his deep, bass voice reverberating into the ground. “If I may be so bold, what are your names? This miscreant has the problem of not introducing people properly.”

  “Colin, my name is Colin, and this is Melissa.”

  Laughter melted from the big man’s face, replaced with a sober nod. “Two very good names. And Colin is a good name for a clown! Come, come have some of my ratatouille, just the way Mama used to make it!”

  “A clown? I’m going to be a clown?” asked Colin.

  “The best in the world,” answered Frederick, eating his food with gusto.

  With wooden bowls of steaming vegetable stew in their hands, they watched as others slowly joined the mix around the fire. Before long, a large woman, dressed in a bright pink outfit, scarf flowing out behind, strode up dramatic-ally to Frederick. Everything about her was pink, from her fuchsia lipstick, all the way down to her baby-pink sweat socks and hot pink canvas running shoes, everything except her dark brown skin and hair. She gave Colin and Melissa a good-natured smile before turning seriously on Frederick, who was wolfing down the last of his stew.

  “Has he announced it yet? Has he given us our outline yet?” she asked anxiously. Colin thought from the way Frederick was glancing at her over the rim of his bowl that she was making more of it than she needed to. Without waiting for a reply, she twirled and faced Holdfast, placing her hands on her ample hips and fixing him with a pair of wide, sensuous eyes. “What do you think?” she asked about her outfit

  “You must be very careful,” whispered Frederick into their ears. “If Magenta ever asks you this question, you must give the right answer. ‘What do you think?’ can be a very tricky phrase. Pay attention to how the master handles this.”

  Holdfast politely handed her a bowl of stew and scratched a spot under his beard. “I believe your outfit accentuates your slim, svelte body in a complimentary manner.” He gave them a covert wink. “It is neither over nor understated. It is simply your effervescent self.”

  “Why, thank you,” beamed Magenta. “Now, who, pray tell, are our guests?”

  Colin guessed her weight to be well over two hundred pounds, but none of it was fat. She was just a large woman, an immensely strong, large woman.

  Frederick made deft motions with his hands speaking in sign language, much like Maestro had, then followed it up with verbal introductions.

  Magenta responded in kind, her pink-gloved hands fluttering in the air. “It’s nice to meet you. Maestro says you’ll be working with us. It’ll be a pleasure!” she said bending over and giving each of them a bone-crushing hug. Then Magenta was off talking gregariously to the other performers around the fire.

  “She seems like a nice person,” said Colin, “but she nearly broke my ribs!”

  “She is a nice person, and I think you’ll see that the art of hugging has been perfected here. It’s the circus way,” said Frederick. “Just remember that she’s a tad sensitive about her weight, that’s all. Holdfast, you’re a marked man, you know that, don’t you.”

  Holdfast snorted and went back to doling out more bowls of ratatouille at a faster pace, trying to ignore the Clown Master and the furtive glances Magenta was casting his way. Colin was amazed at the colorful clothes worn by the troupe. He was beginning to feel distinctly at home. In fact, you only stood out i
f you were wearing something bland. He thought of this when he saw Ofelia, her gray dress and blouse immediately attracting his attention. He wondered why she had ever left the circus. From what he had seen, it was filled with an eclectic group of fascinating people.

  “Colin!” shouted Rhea, her red hair flaming with vitality as she pushed through the crowd. She was breathing excitedly. “You won’t believe what happened! Last night this strange fellow in a gray cloak showed up at our house and asked to talk to mom. At first I thought she was going to call the police, but she let him in. I’m going to be part of the circus! Isn’t that exciting? I don’t have to go to school!”

  “I thought you liked school,” said Colin.

  “I do, but not Principal Devonish,” she said making a sour face. “All the teachers are so beaten down, that they’re afraid to try anything new. Now, this,” she said surveying the mill of people, “now this is exciting!”

  Holdfast thrust a bowl at her.

  Rhea rejected it not looking, but he kept pushing it at her insistently. At first with irritation, then when she saw the vastness of Holdfast, with stupefaction, she meekly accepted the bowl.

  “It’s a good thing you took it,” commented Frederick, “he takes his cooking very personally. Luckily he only cooks once a week.”

  “I heard that, little man!” barked Holdfast his burly back to them.

  Spike slipped in from behind them looking dejected. Immediately a bowl was shoved into his hands.

  “What’s the matter, couldn’t find Silverberry?” asked Colin.

  He shook his head spooning the food into his mouth hungrily. “No, it was just someone that looked like her. Hello,” said Spike who then noticed Rhea. “You should see our tutor. Is he ever crazy looking. He grew up with Zuhayer Horwood and Grandfather Thunder….” He paused to chew his food and swallow, a particular thought occurring to him, “He must be ancient!”

  On the other side of the fire, the impromptu circle of entertainers parted, revealing the tall, gray-cloaked form of Maestro. Ofelia was standing beside him. For the first time, he noticed how similar they were. They both had an aura of calm self-containment, and intense focus. The restless mass of energy that was the performers immediately settled--all eyes on Maestro. The general rumble of ambient conversation was replaced by silence, full, expectant silence. His hands flicked up and his hood fell off. Rhea gave a little gasp. She had not known he was blind. Maestro began:

  “I had a dream. In my dream, I saw the moon and the sun floating in the sky. They floated around the earth, and as they did, the angels sang.”

  He paused, and in the pause everybody looked up into the sky. It was as though they were looking at exactly what Maestro was describing. Suddenly, Colin saw two large floating orbs and around them flew a choir of angels. Light glinted off the iridescent sparkles on their white wings. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Melissa’s lips were moving, silently forming the sounds that were coming from the angels. She had gone into one of her musical trances.

  Maestro, with the singing in the background, continued: “The people on the earth, beneath the sun and moon, played.”

  A group of people appeared around them, capering, full of smiles and the joy of play. They glanced at Colin as they wafted by him, their breath brushing his skin. He couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Then a dark stranger appeared, and taught them how to play different games--games where some were included, some were excluded, and some were ridiculed, games that brought strife and hardship.”

  A dark sinister man with a long cruel mustache seemed to rise out of the ground and with him a number of-–Nixes! Colin shifted uncomfortably, ready to flee; his stomach started to roil, and he thought of The Wind. The dark man was much like the youthful Zuhayer Horwood. Then a strong hand rested on Colin’s shoulder and the calming voice of Frederick slipped into his ear. “It’s all right; they’re just dream images, not the real thing.” Colin watched in horror, as the Shadow Nixes attached themselves to the people, twisting their behavior.

  Maestro’s rich voice continued: “The ones who played the dark games became, themselves, dark, without happiness, joy was lost, and still the angels sang, but their song was as a song far, far away.”

  Colin noticed how the Shadow Nixes were slowly working their way into people, superimposing themselves on top of them, becoming them.

  “If allowed to continue, a new, dreadful order would have been established, but the moon had pity on them.” Colin looked up at the moon hopefully, and saw silvery people descending from the moon. Some began to swing in the air on trapezes and ropes while others bounced down on what appeared to be enormously long elastic cords. The effect was profound and marvelous. The Shadow Nixes couldn’t remain attached to the people and broke away. Intent on joining the newcomers, the freed people rose into the air bouncing around in circles, while those in the center, the ones attached to the moon, swung and flew through the air being caught and in turn, catching each other, creating amazing patterns. Maestro’s voice filled the air.

  “For a while the people were happy again, but the dwellers from the moon had to return home, and when they did, the shadows came back, but instead of shadows, the dark ones wore clothes of deception. They seemed like creatures of light.”

  Colin dared not breathe. Although the new beings were full of light and color, they were still imitations, pale imitations, of what the people had originally been. Colin could see, shifting like a black stain just beneath the color, the true essence of the Shadow Nixes. But they were marching, still organizing everything into a world of harshness.

  “Having failed to strengthen the people, the moon wept and the sun sighed. In ribbons of light, the dwellers in the sun came to the earth, and on each ribbon of light twisted and twirled the hope of the future.”

  On yellow glowing ribbons, the next series of wondrous creatures, descended. Colin gazed on in amazement, wondering how they kept from simply losing control and falling to the ground. Once on the ground the people of the sun forced the shadows out of the people. The angelic chorus circling the sun dropped closer and closer to the earth, becoming magnified in voice and tone. Colin felt the vitality, the thrumming energy that the sun people brought. He noticed that Spike was having a difficult time restraining himself from joining them, and the only reason he did not was because Holdfast was virtually holding him back with a massive arm. The sun people taught everyone how to jump and fly through the air. The ground had changed, becoming a gigantic springboard, so that people could bounce and soar into the air. Colin watched with amazement as people flew, and were caught. Then, as abruptly as they had come, the sun people climbed back up to the sun, which opened to receive them, and they were gone. The vision ended.

  Maestro nodded, turned, and, followed by Ofelia, left, the vision unfinished.

  “Wow, that was awesome!” gasped Spike, his mouth hanging open. “What was that?”

  “But it’s not finished!” gasped Colin. He had the feeling that Zuhayer Horwood was just going to come back in a different form, stronger than ever, and make the lives of the people around him more miserable.

  “That, my friend,” said Frederick, “was the main plot of our next performance! And yes, it is unfinished.”

  “I didn’t see any clowns,” pointed out Spike.

  It was true. Nowhere in the entire vision did they see any clowns.

  Frederick laughed, his voice full and rich, “Of course not, Maestro is responsible for the main direction of the plot!” Colin felt Frederick’s muscular arm fall around his neck, as he addressed the four of them. “We are responsible for the subplot and the end! How this story ends depends on us.”

  Melissa’s hands nimbly signed a question.

  Frederick nodded. “Absolutely, those were dream images of Shadow Nixes.”

  “Wait a second,” cut in Spike. “You mean to say, the live performance involves Shadow Nixes possessi
ng performers? Isn’t that dangerous?”

  Frederick pensively tapped his chin. “I suppose it is, but so is falling from the sun or the moon, except nobody does. You see those angels that sing, are also the safety crew. If anyone is in real danger, they swoop in and fix it.”

  “How?” asked Rhea. “How do they fix it?”

  “You know, I don’t know. They’ve never told me how. I see you lack confidence, but that will change, after you’re trained. Trust me, after you are fully trained, you won’t have to depend on your guardian spirits to chase away the Shadow Nixes all the time.

  “But what do we do?” asked Colin. “What is the subplot?” He was overwhelmed. No matter which way he looked at it they were going to have to confront Zuhayer Horwood. He knew it!

  Frederick tilted his nose up into the air, scenting something, and then turned his face to the partially completed statue and jerked his thumb at it. “Ah, yes, it includes him,” and then he turned back to them, “and it includes you four, and of course Holdfast, Magenta and myself!”

  Colin stared at the statue. The thought of having to create a subplot that involved Zuhayer Horwood did not particularly thrill him. If the Nixes were somehow real, did that mean that Zuhayer Horwood was going to come alive also?

  “But isn’t he dead?” whispered Colin.

  “Speak up!” shouted Holdfast who had ambled over to them. “Can’t hear you! Angel voices still rattling around in my head!”

  “Isn’t Zuhayer Horwood dead?” said Colin again, this time so loud that a number of heads turned and stared at him. He felt like shrinking away.

  “Dead? What’s dead?” barked Holdfast. “Nobody ever dies; we just go from being here to being there. It’s just that some of us have a problem with leaving here, like him.” He motioned with distaste to the statue. “Some people never grow up!”

  Magenta had joined them and was scolding Holdfast with a disapproving look. “You don’t have to be so direct about it. The young ones are sensitive to this sort of stuff.”

  “You mean the stuff about Maestro and G.T. and Horwood being friends? And if Horwood died of old age, then Maestro and G.T., by my calculations, should be dead also?” said Colin more forcefully than he had to. He didn’t like being condescended to.

  Magenta, a bit confused by Colin’s sudden onslaught, paused, waiting for help from the Clown Master.

  Frederick took a deep breath. “I see Maestro has started his lessons. Who is G.T?”

  “Grandfather Thunder.”

  “Oh, Jim! Well,” he motioned again to the statue, “everything is tied up with him, except the part about being dead. People like us don’t age as naturally as others, unless we start twisting things, like Zuhayer did.”

  “How old are you?” asked Rhea.

  Frederick shrugged. “I don’t really know. I stopped counting years ago.”

  “So, we’re going to live until we’re really old, like Maestro or G.T.?” asked Spike enthusiastically.

  “Yes,” answered Frederick, “most likely.”

  Rhea had been absorbing everything up until this point. “Yes, but why include the Nixes and Horwood in the performance. Maestro wants you to do this right?”

  Frederick nodded gravely. “Yes, he does. You see, there is nothing we can do to stop him from coming back. It’s going to happen. Your aunt, or more importantly, what’s inside your aunt, is going to bring him back whether we want her to or not. We just have to design a way to send him to where he needs to be. That’s why we’re here. That’s why Ofelia summoned us.”

  “That’s going to be dangerous,” said Spike with a little too much eager anticipation, one foot to the other.

  “Absolutely,” rumbled Holdfast, “anything we do in The Circus of the Moon is dangerous, but we try to minimize the risk by being trained and prepared.”

  “But we’re neither,” countered Colin. “Why don’t we just stop Aunt Grizzelda from bringing him back? Wouldn’t that be a lot easier?”

  “Yes, it would,” said Frederick thoughtfully, “but it would be wrong. Everybody has the right to do what they want. It would be a very bad thing if we stopped her, if you stopped her.”

  “Listen sweetie,” said Magenta surrounding Colin in a big cloud of comforting pink. “If we tried this performance without you four, well, I don’t know what would happen, but one thing is for sure, we would fail. You all are instrumental in sending Zuhayer packing. You’ve got to trust us, explicitly. Do you think you can do that?”

  “I think so,” said Colin still not sure why or how Grizzelda was going to bring Zuhayer back.

  “So, are you ready for your training? Maestro has told me to expect some very apt students,” said Frederick yawning and stretching out his arms.