CHAPTER TWO

AN ANGEL TO THE RESCUE

The clown spun the large yellow sign this way and that, twirling it with as easily and gracefully as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Painted on the sign in black and red letters were the words: EVERYTHING MUST GO! He was performing beside Kenny's Music Shop, a small business no one seemed to be paying much attention to as they strolled past.

Arthur didn't let the smile on his face disappear. When he wore his clown costume and bright makeup, he slipped into a different identify entirely. On that cloudy morning, he was no longer Arthur Fleck, but a clown who'd stop at nothing to spread joy and laughter to the world.

On his right, an old man played a piano. Arthur shifted his feet in tune to the song, letting the music guide him.

When a father and his two children walked past, Arthur lifted the sign high above his head in a dramatic fashion. Making a silly face at the kids, the boy chuckled. The girl clapped her hands in delight. Pleased by their responses, he stomped his jumbo red shoes, mouthing the words, "If you're happy and you know it, stomp your feet!" Both kids immediately stomped their feet, watching the performing clown with obvious excitement.

The unamused father, meanwhile, scowled at the clown and nudged the kids to keep moving. The little girl stole a quick glance over her shoulder. Arthur frowned briefly, but wiped his frown away, reminding himself that he was a happy clown. Forcing his lips into a broad smile, he held up one hand and waved at her in a friendly, silent "bye!"

Carnival.

That was Arthur Fleck's clown name. It had been his clown name in the many years he'd been a party clown.

His smile widened as he recalled how he'd assigned himself that name. As a child, he'd always longed to visit a carnival. A magical place chockfull of sleepless fun – what greater was there for a kid? But his mother had struggled, financially, and so Arthur had never taken even one step inside a carnival. He could only imagine what it would be like to bite into a crisp, sweet candy apple, brave a thrilling roller coaster, to see nightly fireworks of all colors lighting up an evening sky. Still he longed to visit one, but times were hard. Life was difficult enough as it was; he could barely afford the apartment he and his sick mother currently lived in.

For now, he could only keep dreaming.

People of all sorts passed by Carnival. In the sea of faces, Arthur noticed expressions of every kind.

Impatience.

Frustration.

Boredom.

Arrogance.

Apathy.

So much negativity. It didn't matter what face he looked to; it was all the same. Gotham was a city weighed down by such hopelessness, Arthur was surprised the city hadn't yet crumbled.

As one spindly woman strode towards him, Arthur offered her a toothy, clownish smile. As expected, the woman ignored the smiling clown and picked up the pace. Though he wanted nothing more than to spread joy and laughter to the world, it was somewhat difficult when the world didn't seem to care.

But he couldn't stop trying.

It's a new day, he thought, injecting as much positivity into his brain as he could. Considering his head was filled with enough negative thoughts, he knew the importance of digging deep for even the smallest bit of positive thinking.

Kids, at least, always seemed to enjoy Carnival.

That is, most kids.

Carnival was spinning his sign over his head. Up and down, left and right went the sign, the focused clown slowing his pace for not even a second. Too absorbed in his sign-twirling, he didn't notice the group of teenagers strutting directly for him. Only when he heard a cocky voice call out to him did Arthur swallow nervously.

"Yo, what's up with your shoes, bro?"

He's talking about me, thought Arthur, his chest tightening with fear. He's definitely talking about me. He's gonna...gonna... He hated thinking of what might be in store for him. Afraid of sending his gaze elsewhere, he focused only on the sign. The guys approaching him were the very definition of troublemakers. The way they carried themselves, the smug smirks glued to their faces – it didn't take a genius to see these teens were hungry for an extra large helping of trouble.

"Hey, if you're gonna be a clown," the same voice shouted, "at least you can be a good one, you know that, right?"

WHACK!

Poor Carnival had no time to react. The only noise that slipped from his painted lips was a startled, surprised, "ahh!" One minute he was spinning the sign round and round, lost in the world that was Carnival the Clown's. The next it was knocked right out of his grasp. Lightning quick, one of the teens grabbed hold of the sign and bolted off, the other boys sprinting after him. Arthur reached out desperately for the sign, only to slip like a clumsy camel.

"Hey!" he shouted in a hoarse voice.

Just like that, the chase was on.

Arthur knew he'd never catch them. Running in his jumbo clown shoes was not like running in comfy running sneakers. But he couldn't let these kids run off with the sign. If Kenny came out and realized his sign was missing, the blame would fall on Arthur and Arthur alone. Not to mention his unfairly strict boss, Hoyt, would not be pleased. The man had already given Arthur many chances. One more disappointment, and Arthur feared he'd lose his job at Ha-Ha's before he'd have time to so much as blink.

"STOP THEM!" he hollered. Over and over again he called out for someone, anyone, to notice the pleading clown.

But they didn't.

Because no one cared.

"Come on, Clown!" the oldest guy taunted, laughing meanly. "We got the sign!"

Arthur ran as fast as he could, his lungs aching the faster he ran. Being a heavy smoker, it didn't take much for him to get out of breath. But it didn't matter. He was responsible for Kenny's sign. He had to get it back.

Down the busy sidewalk Arthur ran. The teens kept looking back at him, the sneers on their faces refusing to die. How he managed to avoid knocking into people, Arthur wasn't sure. With unexplainable speed, he weaved in and around men, women and children, praying he didn't tumble and crash to the ground and break both his legs.

"Where's your sign, Clown?"

In your hands, thought Arthur miserably. Determined to get his sign back, Arthur raced out into the busy street, not realizing at the time how dangerous a thing this was to do on a busy Monday morning.

BEEEEEEP!

Arthur cried out in alarm as he barely avoided being slammed into by an oncoming car. A few steps forward and another vehicle slammed on their breaks. The embarrassed, fear-stricken look in his eyes went unnoticed by the driver, who honked harshly at the clown. Before Arthur hurried off the street, the irked cabbie rolled down the window to yell "Watch where you're going!"

Arthur felt his legs starting to cramp. He doubted he could run much longer until his fuel tank would run out and he'd have to stop. His lungs were screaming for air with each step he took.

Faster, run faster! he thought in a panic, quickening the pace. The teens were a few yards ahead of him. Again and again Arthur pleaded for them to give back the sign, but his efforts were in vain. No way were they returning this clown's sign willingly. If the clown wanted his sign back, then he'd have to take it from them.

Down the sidewalk Arthur ran, pumping his aching legs as fast as he could. He couldn't let them get away! More than once he almost tripped, but somehow, he managed to stay on his feet. The longer he ran, the more it seemed he'd never catch these speedy kids. They were simply too fast for Arthur. Between not being as young as he used to be and wearing shoes not at all fit for running, how in the world was he supposed to catch them?

"SLOW POKE!" one guy yelled, laughing at the insult.

The other boys chimed in with remarks of their own.

"FREAK!"

"IDIOT!"

"Stop them!" Arthur shouted, feeling as invisible as a ghost. A few people strolling by cast him quick, curious glances, but nothing more.

Seeing the guys disappear into an alleyway, Arthur sped forward.

"HEY!" he yelled, nearly tumbling onto the grimy sidewalk. Wasting no time, he sprinted down the alley, relieved that he'd finally get his sign back. The group was standing beside a dumpster, sneering and making faces at the approaching clown.

"You fuckers!" Arthur panted.

So out of breath, Arthur didn't notice the sign had disappeared. In the seconds it took for this to finally occur to him, it was too late. Out from behind the dumpster stepped the oldest teen, his face lit up in a satisfied grin. Up, up, up went the sign, right over poor Arthur's head.

Then, with a sickening WHACK, down, down, down came the sign on Arthur's head. The boys cackled as the broken pieces fell to the ground. Even harder they laughed at the defenseless clown now at their feet.

"Come on, beat his ass up!" the oldest boy ordered.

Knowing what was coming, immediately Arthur shielded his head with his hand. The other he slipped between his legs, knowing one kick was all it took to cause serious damage down there. Having no chance of fighting off predators, all he could do was protect his head and privates as best he could.

"This guy's weak!" Arthur heard the leader shout. "He can't do nothing!" How many times those nasty kids kicked Arthur, he couldn't say. Judging by the sharp pain radiating through his body, it felt like fifty. Though with how frail he was, even a few kicks or punches felt like a mountain of pain.

"Harder...HARDER!"

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard. Frantically he tried thinking of something happy. He imagined himself sitting cross-legged on his mother's bed while the two of them watched their favourite TV program, The Murray Franklin Show; dancing in his living room as he let the music in his soul free and watching the smiling faces of kids as he sang "If You're Happy and You Know It" danced and made balloon animals for them.

Think of happy things, he thought, tears welling up in his eyes. Happy...happy...happy.

That was when he heard a voice.

Not a cold, cruel voice like so many in cold, cruel Gotham.

No, this voice banished Arthur's fears instantly. The moment it reached his ears, he felt a an unmistakable sense of comfort washing over him.

"Get away from him!"

Arthur's eyes fluttered open. It took him a moment for things to snap into focus. What he saw were the boys standing round him, staring in disappointment at the woman now a few feet away from them. Her mouth hung open in palpable shock.

"M-Mrs. Speck?" the boys shouted in unison. There was no masking the shock on their faces; it was as clear as the clouds in the sky.

"Is this what you boys do when you're not in school?" she scolded. "Going around beating up on someone like it's some kind of...of"—she let out a disgusted scowl—"joke?"

The boys said nothing. The oldest one merely stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, mumbling sulkily.

"And speaking of school," the woman went on, staring sternly at the busted teens. "You should all be in class right now." Her eyes fell on the bleeding clown, whose face was stained with tears. Arthur stared up, open-mouthed, wide-eyed, wondering if he'd somehow slipped into dreamland.

This was the woman from the subway! She was even wearing the same pink turtleneck. A week had passed since that night, and more than once she'd slid into Arthur's mind. And now here she was, coming to his aid like an angel from the heavens. Too tired and dazed to lift his head off the ground, he laid there, staring at nothing else but her. She was scolding the teens, but Arthur couldn't help taking in the sight of her.

She was small and skinny like himself. Seeing her more close up, he couldn't say for sure how old she was, but he guessed she was somewhere in her twenties. In this dark and dingy alley, her flamingo-pink turtleneck seemed to shine with color. If this was all only a dream, thought Arthur, he only hoped he could hold onto the image of this woman, whoever she was.

"I hope you know your parents will be hearing about this," she said firmly. "This is beyond unacceptable! And don't think Principal Parker won't be giving you all a proper punishment."

Saying nothing, the group left. The oldest boy threw the woman a peeved look, but remained silent.

A moment later, the boys were gone.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but coughed painfully. He groaned softly, laying his head back on the wet pavement. Still he hadn't taken his eyes off the woman. How had he managed to bump into this same woman, one whose name he didn't even know?

"I-I'm sorry," she said quietly, rushing to his side at once. She locked eyes with the clown, shaking her head empathetically. "I'm a teacher at Hillridge High. Those...those boys are always getting into trouble at school. I—"

"You," Arthur uttered softly. "You saved my life."

The woman's gaze softened. Staring long and hard at this clown, it took only a moment for the light bulb to go off in her head.

"The...the subway," she whispered. "You're the clown I saw on the subway last week."

Arthur nodded, wincing slightly. His entire body was a throbbing, tender mess.

"You saved my life," she told him, her quiet voice mirroring his own.

"We saved each other's," Arthur commented, offering her a small, tired smile.

She returned his smile with one of her own.

"Guess we did."

There was a brief pause.

"You're hurt," she said, looking Arthur over with palpable concern. "We have to get you to a doctor. You might need—"

"T-that's okay," Arthur answered softly, struggling to sit up. With the woman's help, he managed. "I...I'll be okay."

"But you're bleeding!" she cried, her eyes flickering to the blood at his feet. "You really should see a—"

"Nothing's broken," Arthur assured her. His face scrunched up in discomfort. Yes, he was bleeding, but it wasn't anything a wet facecloth at home couldn't fix. If he could just make it back home, he could clean himself up in the bathroom and rest on the couch.

The woman bit her lip. "Are you sure?" she said finally, eyeing Arthur's bloody lips with a frown. "I'd be more than happy to drive you to a hospital."

Arthur smiled in appreciation.

"That's sweet of you," he said kindly, feeling suddenly shy. He wasn't used to anyone showing him such kindness. It was such a strange, but absolutely wonderful feeling. Despite his aching body, never had he felt so...happy. "B-but I'll be okay...really."

For a minute, neither Arthur nor the woman said a word. From outside the alley, the noise of honking cars, arguing pedestrians and barking dogs was all that could be heard.

Finally, the woman asked him, "What's your name?"

"Arthur," he answered, sounding like an innocent boy meeting a pretty girl. "Arthur Fleck." Always in the mood for a joke, he put on his most clownish smile and added, "Well, actually right now I'm Carnival the Clown!" He squeezed his squeaky clown noise. It sounded like the horn on a child's bicycle. "What's your name?"

She smiled briefly. "Aubrey."

Aubrey. Arthur replayed the sound of her name in his thoughts, loving the way her voice sounded. It was soft, like birds chirping early in the morning on a spring day. It was comforting, like the world's most comforting blanket, one that's fleecy and wraps around you on a cold winter's night. He'd heard many sounds in the many years he'd been a resident of Gotham: the sound of one's fist punching him in the face, the cruel laughter of those who showed him no empathy, fighting in the streets late at night...the list went on.

What he heard in Aubrey's voice was an angels' voice. No, she might not have had fluffy wings white as snow, or a shiny yellow halo hovering over her head...but what Arthur saw when he looked at this woman was an angel.

Just as quickly she was frowning again.

"You're in pain," she said, focusing on his face. Arthur might have said he was fine, but his grimaces told her otherwise.

He sighed wearily. "It was just a bunch of kids," he said, sounding visibly guilty. "I should have left it alone. Maybe if I hadn't chased them for my sign, they wouldn't have—"

"Wait," she interrupted. "They stole that sign from you?"

Arthur shrugged silently.

"It's completely their fault, Arthur!" she argued, laying a hand on his arm. "Don't go and blame yourself for what they did. Those boys have gotten suspended more than once. Not surprised they went and did something like this but...but no way is this your fault. Okay?"

Arthur nodded meekly.

She's beautiful, thought Arthur, unable to take his eyes off her. Not just physically, he thought, but beautiful for what she'd done: saving his life. Unlike the countless people who passed him everyday, indifferent to his endless suffering, she had noticed him. More than that, she cared. She could have easily ignored the suffering clown in the alley, but no, she'd noticed...and done something to help him. She didn't have to help me, but...but she did!

"I-I'm kind of embarrassed," Arthur said in a low voice. He dropped his head, his red lips sinking into a large frown. "I'm a grown man, I...I should have been able to fight back or...or—"

"But it was five against one!" Aubrey exclaimed. "They had you outnumbered. And it's not like we've all got black belts and can defend ourselves."

After a moment of unbroken silence, Arthur was back on his feet.

"I can't thank you enough," he told Aubrey kindly. "You didn't have to do what you did. Those guys could have come at you, but you...you still helped me." He fixed his sea-green eyes on her, his expression morphing into one of deep curiosity. "Why?"

"You needed help," was her simple answer. "Not enough people in this shitty town help each other. Most only care about themselves."

The words not you fluttered through Arthur's mind. You stopped to help me. Again the word angel popped to mind. Never could he have expected to meet an angel when he set out that morning for work. Having met only uncaring devils, such an enormous, but wonderful surprise it was to have had an angel come to his rescue.

"Well, thank you again," said Arthur, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. "I...I'll just go wait for a bus to take me—"

"If you, I mean," Aubrey started awkwardly. "If you want, I"—she ran her fingers through her long black hair. Arthur watcher her, saying nothing. He wasn't an expert in many things, but he could tell when one was feeling nervous. "I could drive you home, if...I mean, if you—"

"Oh, no...no, I couldn't have you do that," Arthur said. "You've already done enough. And...and anyway, I...I have to fix Kenny's sign and get it back to—"

"Don't worry about the sign," she said, helping him pick up the broken pieces. "I can help you fix that. I'm sure with some glue and tape, we can at least put it back together."

"Really, you don't have to," Arthur quietly argued. "You've already done so much for me. I'm sure I can"—He grimaced as a bolt of pain ripped through his shoulder.

"Where do you live?" asked Aubrey, holding him steady.

"Winslow Avenue," Arthur said, gritting his teeth together. He was trying not to let on how much he was hurting, but there was no hiding his pain. "Near Robinson Park..."

"That's perfect, then," said Aubrey. "I'm on Winslow Street, too. I can drive you home."

Again Arthur said under his breath, "You don't have to do that."

Aubrey's cheeks flushed red. "It's okay. I...I want to."

She can't be real, thought Arthur in denial. This can't be real. I'm just dreaming. I'm gonna wake up and this'll all be gone.

Aubrey's car was parked on the opposite side of the street. After helping him across the street, Arthur found himself seated in the front seat of her small car. Dangling from the rear-view mirror was an air freshener. He inhaled, catching the definite scent of cinnamon. He wondered if she liked baking. As she settled in beside him and started the car, he suddenly felt shyer than ever. Here he was, a stranger, sitting in the car of a woman who'd shown him more kindness than anyone. He didn't know what to say or do. He just wasn't used to people showing him even an ounce of compassion.

When she drove off down the street toward Winslow Avenue, again Arthur told himself this was all a dream.

But even so, if it all truly was a dream, it was the most beautiful dream he'd ever had. And however much longer it lasted, he wanted to enjoy every second of it.

Though he was in pain, he wasn't thinking about this. He closed his eyes, letting a sleepy, relaxed smile spread across his face. For the first time in his life, Arthur Fleck felt something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

He felt safe.