Michael W. Garza
The February Selected Story is by Michael W. Garza
Please feel free to email Michael at: mgarza@sithining.com
I HATE CLOWNS
by Michael W. Garza
Jimmy Oliver was terrified. The window he, Mike Sullivan, and Chris Taylor had climbed through had suddenly locked itself from the inside. Now they couldn’t get out. Jimmy had convinced his friends to do this and now it was his entire fault.
The three boys sat huddled in the shadows of a decrepit, old study. The study was on the first floor of Dreball Manor. More than a hundred years old, the manor had a long and twisted history. There were long standing stories, tales, and rumors that covered every possible event from murder to bizarre rituals. Jimmy knew he wasn’t the only one over the years to break in. The intrigue of the place was almost impossible for teenagers to avoid.
And now, Jimmy fumbled through his backpack and found a small flashlight. His hands shook in the dark as he tried to slide the switch on. In a sudden flash, the room lit up in a wide cone. He turned the light towards his cohorts to make sure they hadn't managed to get out of the study without him.
"Get that thing off me," Mike said. He was the athlete of the group. The snarl on his face showed his growing aggravation with Jimmy.
"Let's just get out of here," Chris said. Chris was Jimmy's closest friend. He’d followed Jimmy since the two first met in kindergarten.
All three boys would be seeing their fourteenth birthdays in the coming spring. Presently they hoped to live that long.
"Just calm down," Jimmy said. "There’s no need to panic."
"But that window was suppose to be our way out," Chris reminded him.
Jimmy knew that. He was desperately trying to figure out a backup plan, but didn’t want his friends to know he was just as scared as they were. "Let's just get to the front room and go out the front door," Jimmy finally said. "It's not like old man Abby would lock himself in."
Old man Abby was the final piece in the Dreball Manor mythology. Most of the people in nearby New Haven Connecticut were looking forward to tearing the manor down when the elderly man met his maker. Old man Abby bought the place under peculiar circumstances. Word had it, he belonged to a traveling carnival until he came into a large sum of money.
"No way man," Chris said. He pulled off his glasses and cleaned them with the end of his shirt. "You said one room, Jimmy; don’t make me walk around this place."
Jimmy frowned and shook his head. "We tried the window. Even Mike couldn't get it open again. I don't know why it’s locked, but we have to find some other way out."
Chris didn't like it but he nodded anyway.
The howling wind roared against the locked window. Outside it, a light rain was falling and the moon was hidden behind thick, grey clouds. Inside, there was a strong smell of damp staleness.
The boys came to their feet. They huddled close together as Jimmy swept the light around the room. On the ceiling, thick coats of cobwebs hung in a display of neglect.
The lone door in the room was directly across from the window. Jimmy reached the door first, followed close by Chris and then by Mike. Jimmy turned the handle slowly, his mind racing with the possibilities of what may lay behind. All were wondering what would happen if they were caught.
Old man Abby did not make many appearances in town. The truth was none of the boys had ever actually seen the old man. What they knew came from the stories passed on from one concerned neighbor to another. This meant they had no idea what to expect.
The door opened with a painfully loud creak. Jimmy winced at the sound and pulled as soft as he could. When it was opened he turned to find that both Chris and Mike had retreated back underneath the window.
"Chickens," Jimmy taunted. He shook his head. "Come on."
They stood at the open study doorway looking out at a wide hallway. Jimmy held his hand over the lens of his flashlight. A pale light from the cloud covered sky filtered through the hall from a large, circular window at the top of a grand staircase at the rear of the hall. A wide carpet covered most of the hardwood. Jimmy noted several other doors along the sides of the hall.
"Let's just get to the front door and get the heck out of here," Chris whispered.
Jimmy had always been then the adventurous one of the group. All of the troubled stories of their past had began with 'Jimmy had an idea.' There was one such idea coming to him now.
"We may never get a chance to come back in here again," Jimmy said. His heart pounded in his chest but the rush was what urged him on.
"Good," Chris said.
"What are you getting at, Jimmy?" Mike asked.
"Wouldn't you like to be able to tell everyone in school that you wandered around Dreball Manor and lived to tell about it?” Jimmy asked.
Chris shook his head. "No Jimmy, I wouldn't."
"Fine," Jimmy said. “Then you can stay here by yourself. I’m gonna have a look around.”
He shined the light towards the back of the hallway, and started off in the opposite direction of where the front door would be. It amused him that his friends followed him, as they had done all their lives. Chris clung so close to him, Jimmy could feel his breath on the back of his neck. Mike hung back out of the light as if trying to challenge himself.
But halfway down the hallway, a sound stopped them.
"What was that?" Mike asked.
"Shh," Jimmy said.
The sound was distant at first but drew nearer. It didn't come from any one direction but rose from all four corners of the hallway at once.
"Please tell me that's not moaning," Chris whispered. The three boys locked arms, trying to get closer to one another.
"We have to get out of here, Jimmy," Mike said.
Jimmy knew Mike was right. For once, Jimmy backed down. “Okay, let’s get out of here,” he said. “Let’s go to the front door.”
The three teenagers crept back through the hallway, each straining their ears to listen. They didn’t hear anything more, but they kept heading to the front door until they reached it.
The wood on the front double door looked badly aged. It appeared as though it hadn't been opened in a long time. Jimmy unlocked the bolt on the door and pulled. Chris's face changed from sour to worse; nothing happened.
"This isn't funny," Chris said.
"I'm not laughing," Jimmy said. He planted his feet near the door and leaned back as he pulled. “Mike, give me a little help here."
When both boys pulled and the doors still didn't budge, there came a sinking feeling to all of them at once. It was locked from the inside somehow and none of them could figure out how, or more importantly, why.
And then a sudden awareness turned that fear into dread. They slunk down to the floor, sitting with their backs against the front door. Jimmy cocked his head to one side as a soft sound came from the hallway again. He could see silent confirmation on both Chris and Mike faces that they heard it as well.
Jimmy shined the flashlight towards the sound. A shifting movement happened just below the window at the top of the stairs. They all saw it at once. There was a void in the flashlight’s beam that grew darker as the moan intensified.
Mike jumped up to his feet and banged on the door. "We have to get out of here now!" he screamed.
Jimmy and Chris followed pulling at the door handles, but it still remained locked from the inside. The moaning was all around them now. The void moved down the stairs toward them.
"Come on, man!" Jimmy shouted. “Let’s run!” He pulled on Mike’s arm, hoping that Chris would follow. He started to cross the hallway to run to where he figured the back door would be. But then Jimmy looked back to find Chris standing in the center of the front hall, his stare locked on the dark void as it began to descend the stairs.
"I told you this was a stupid idea," Chris said. He was crying helplessly. "Why do I let you talk me into stuff?"
“Chris!” cried Jimmy. “Listen to me! Run with me to the back door!”
But the dark figure was almost on top of Chris. The moans were so loud they drowned out Chris's crying. He was frozen solid with fear.
Jimmy bolted back out into the hallway and grabbed Chris's arm. He pulled him with all his might and flung him toward an open side door. Chris slammed into Mike and the two boys fell into the open doorway in the hallway. Jimmy ran after them but before he could run into the room with the others, the door slammed shut.
Jimmy grabbed the door knob. He could hear Mike yelling and pounding against the other side of the door. The sound of his voice was barely audible above the moaning.
"Mike! Chris! Open the door!" Jimmy yelled.
“I’m trying!” Mike’s voice came from the other side. There was one more hit on the door then a sudden and horrifying silence.
"Mike," Jimmy whispered. He stared at the door with desperate confusion. "Oh Mike, Chis." He continued to turn the door knob to no avail.
Giving up on the door and leaning over, Jimmy fumbled around on the floor and found the flashlight. He'd dropped it when he’d grabbed Chris. The flashlight sprang to life and filled and illuminated the hall. The hallway was short but wide; there was another door at its end. Several framed pictures lined the wall on his right.
He stood in the center of the hall, looking from one wall to the other. Hunched like an old man, he stepped forward at a terrifyingly slow pace. As he edged along, Jimmy flashed the light at the pictures on the wall.
The pictures were large portrait paintings unlike anything Jimmy had ever seen. Each seemed to depict a man dressed in fine clothes, some in suit and tie, others in tuxedos. What felt so out of place was that each man in the picture had a painted face like a circus clown. None of them were smiling; each were sitting straight-faced and serious. The effect was beyond eerie.
"Why did it have to be clowns?" Jimmy asked out loud. "I really hate clowns.”
The light ran further down the hall, finding the end. There it was, the final door of the hall on the right wall, just past the last portrait. Maybe that was the door leading to the back of the house, and to the freedom beyond.
Jimmy did his best to ignore the clowns as he walked, wishing feverishly he wasn’t all alone. What was going to happen to his friends? Could he get out of this house in time to save them?
And then he reached the final door of the hallway. It was unusually tall and the knob peculiarly cold. Jimmy wrapped his fingers around the ornate handle and turned. Part of him hoped the knob wouldn't move, but it did. With only one eye opened, he felt the door give way.
The creaking sound that the door made was enough to send shivers down his spine. He swallowed hard. He pulled at it slowly. The creak did not return but through the door came a blast of cool wind that he wasn’t ready for. Jimmy poked his head through the doorway and shined the light into the room beyond.
The room was long though short through the center. The majority of the floor space was covered with an assortment of bizarre items. At first glance, Jimmy spotted several suits of armor; a fully erected gallows including a dangling noose, and wide array of antique looking furniture.
Jimmy was quick to pull his head back out into the hall. Oh my god, he thought, I didn’t think things could get worse, but now I see they can.
Taking a deep breath, Jimmy stepped through the door with authority, trying his best to maintain his courage. His hesitation about entering the new room was overcome by his desire to somehow get help for his friends, locked in a different room. He kept the door open in the hope that he could make a fast escape if need be.
The room was darker than the hall and the only thing clear was what happed to be directly in front of the flashlight. That fact instantly began to play havoc on him. Every tiny squeak in the floor or gust of wind up against the side of the house brought with it terrifying visions of what lay just beyond the edge of the light. There was an unnatural coolness to the room which could not be explained.
It was only after he’d stepped too far away from the door to reach back and grab it that it slammed closed. The sudden jolt of noise nearly brought Jimmy’s heart to a complete stop, then it jump started once again to pound wildly inside his chest. Instinctively Jimmy lunged back toward the door, but was held in place by the darkness.
He could feel his hands shaking and the dance of the flashlight gave that away. Now he was pulled towards a sound coming from just on the other side of the room. He knew at once it wasn't the wind or settling wood. It was an eerie laugh.
"What do you want!" Jimmy shouted. “I’m sorry we broke into your house! But we’re trying to leave now. Please let us leave, whoever you are!”
Silence greeted his outburst. No laughter, no moaning, just silence. Somehow that felt worse. Jimmy focused the flashlight across the room. He could see the gallows, the noose rocking slowly back and forth. Just on the other side, Jimmy saw a patch of color he couldn't figure out at first. He knew it was a painting but it took him a moment to realize it was another picture of a clown.
He took a step, then another. The laugher sounded again, and grew louder. Jimmy’s flashlight showed a swirling smoke rising from the floor in front of the painting. The light shifted and Jimmy could have sworn the clown in the painting smiled at him.
And then the painting suddenly rocked back then before his eyes. . . a white, gloved hand pushed out of the frame and waved.
Jimmy screamed in terror, and tried to turn around to run. Instead, he got caught in his own feet and fell hard upon the floor, still facing the hand coming out of the painting. He was frozen in fear, unable to move.
And he was helpless to stop whatever was coming out of the painting.
The horror of that moment overwhelmed him. As every part of his brain told him to run, he held still. The hand reached out toward him, followed by a shoulder. The pasty white face of the clown ballooned to life as it pulled away from the painting. There was a translucency to the clown that gave it a horror beyond explanation.
"Oh god!" was all Jimmy could manage. He felt his heart beat wildly in his chest and was sure it would burst at any moment. Sweat ran down into his eyes as the clown stood erect in front of him, looming over him like the apparition he was.
Jimmy shut his eyes in anticipation of his own death.
“Jimmy,” the clown spoke.
At the sound of his name, Jimmy slowly opened his eyes, terrified at what awaited him. "No please!" he cried as he threw up his hands in defense.
"I always did hate being the last in on anything," the figure said in a deep voice.
He stepped fully into the flashlight’s beam and Jimmy saw it was merely an old frail man, not a clown at all. The laughter rose behind the man as Chris and Mike stepped out into the light.
"What the. . . ?" Jimmy couldn’t tell if he was relieved or angry.
The boys were still laughing. "He doesn't like trespassers," Chris said in-between snickers.
"Dominic Telfair Abby at your service," the old man said as he bowed. "Traveling the world as a circus entertainer leaves you with the oddest collection of items."
"So all this was a joke?" Jimmy demanded with furious anger. He got to his knees then awkwardly stood upright.
"Not a joke young man. Protection," Abby explained. "I bet you won't be crawling through my windows any time soon, huh?"
All three boys shook their heads no.
“What about the clowns and all the moans?” Jimmy asked.
“You would be surprised what you can do with a few hidden speakers and a projector,” Abby explained.
“So you just scare kids?” Jimmy asked, brushing his clothes off.
“Only the ones that break into my home,” Abby replied. “Are you ready to leave my house now?”
“I’ve been ready,” Mike said.
“Me too,” Chris chimed in.
“And what about you, young man?” Abby asked Jimmy.
“Yeah, I am,” Jimmy said.
And with that, Abby led all three boys out to the porch and bid them farewell. As he closed the front door he offered one last piece of advice.
"Next time boys, just ring the bell."
Michael W. Garza lives and works in Southern California with his wife and two children. He has had work published or accepted by the Absent Willow Review, Residential Aliens, Morpheus Tales, Sounds of the Night, and Deadman's Tome.
Please visit Michael at: www.sithining.com