A/N: For some reason, spellcheck would not work for this chapter. It works for everything else, but not this. I tried copy/pasting into a new file, but it wouldn't work there either. Huh. So do please forgive any typos that I missed.
OOOOOO
Day One
April 1, 1906
"Ten minutes to Derry!"
"Ten minutes to Derry!"
The call sounded through the clowns' car, startling 26 year old Bob Gray out of his doze. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and passed it down.
"Ten minutes to Derry!" He stood up and stretched as much as his height would allow as Amos, in the next cabin down, passed it along further down the train.
Bob sat back down on his bunk and took a quick glance around, running through a mental checklist. Everything was packed and ready to go. He would move the trunks down to his wagon here in a bit, just as soon as... Ah, there she was.
The sound of running footsteps came down the corridor, and a few seconds later, six year old Wilhelmina Gray came through the door into the cabin. Her handmade white dress and white hair bow had barely stilled when she began firing off questions.
"Papa, did you hear? We're almost to Derry. Will I be able to see my friends from last year? Can I perform in the voltige act this year? Do you think Mr. Shrine will let me?"
Bob stood still without answering for a moment as the onslaught of questions filtered through his mind. "I heard." he said at last. "We need to move the trunks to the wagon now."
She frowned at him but nodded obediently. "Yes, Papa."
It didn't take them long at all the carry the two traveling trunks: his and hers, down to the car where Bob's wagon was stored. It was similar to the one in which his mother (Or his father; he had no way of knowing one way or another) had abandoned him in years before. He was grateful that the interior of the car was dark; it prevented him from seeing that Willie's wagon was no longer Willie's.
He tried not to think of Willie if he could. The old clown had been dead for three years, dying of a heart attack in his sleep, and his wagon had been repurposed by the clown hired to replace him, but Bob still felt the ache of losing the closest thing to a father that he'd ever had off and on. The others told him that it would fade with time, but he wasn't sure if he believed them anymore.
The two trunks were placed just inside the wagon door, to the side so they wouldn't be tripped over later, and Bob released Wilhemina to go play with the other children while he returned to their cabin to await their arrival in Derry. There would be hours of work ahead of him once there, so he would relax while he could. He sank down into the only chair and stretched his longs legs out in front of him.
Derry, Maine.
He blew out a breath and reached out to pick up his banjo, only to remember that it was packed away in his trunk, along with his concertina. He idly nibbled at a fingernail as the train clattered along the tracks. It was always the same. As the train closed in on Derry's train station, a creeping unease came over him, like what he felt when he was having a bad dream. When he was little, the approach to Derry had made him bawl, and the troupe's attempts to quiet him had never worked. Willie had resorted to simply holding him on his lap as the train rolled in.
Bob shivered as Derry came into sight outside the window, and his stomach churned. He couldn't explain why he felt this way. He just didn't have the needed words. Some attributed it to his birth and abandonment – perhaps some lingering fear from being left alone in a strange place all those years ago. Outwardly, Bob pretended to agree. Inwardly, he knew better. There was something wrong with Derry. Something was -
"Bob?"
Bob jumped and whipped his head up to look at the door. Lou was standing there.
"Derry jitters?" the trapeze artist asked, and Bob nodded.
He turned to look at the window at the town as it grew larger and closer, and his heart jumped in his chest as he folded his arms over it. "I don't like it. I wish we could skip it."
"You know we can't, Bob."
Bob curled up in the chair, pulling his knees up to his chest as he glared out the window at the approaching town. His lower lip dropped down, and he huffed in frustration.
"Bob," Lou chided him."Stop sulking; we got too much work to do."
Bob huffed again, but after a few seconds he nodded, pushed the feeling of wrongness away, and stood up. He followed Lou of the compartment without another word.
OOOOOO
The circus' arrival in any town or city was always a chaotic scene. Today was no different. Bob had no time to worry about his unease as he assisted in the unloading of the various wagons and the horses that pulled them. Off and on he caught glimpses of Wilhelmina assisting with the unloading of the Appaloosa horses that the voltige team used in their act. Once everything was offloaded, horses had to be harnessed and hitched to wagons, wagons had to be lined up, and then everyone got into costume for their parade down Derry's main drag to the fair grounds on the other side of the Penobscot River.
Wilhelmina got herself dressed behind a makeshift curtain in one corner of her father's wagon, while Bob applied his clown makeup at the table and mirror built into the small living area for that very purpose. She came out a few minutes later and waited patiently for Bob to to apply the finishing touches to his makeup: two red lines that ran down across his eyes, over his cheeks, and down to the corners of his mouth. Once that was done, he was able to braid his little girl's hair for her, something that had gotten him a few snickers from the other members of the troupe, and tie it off with a lace trimmed ivory ribbon that matched her dress. He then helped her pin on her wide brimmed hat with its ribbon that matched the one in her hair. It was the only article of clothing that she owned that was store bought; Bob had bought it in Chicago for her a few months before for 30 cents.
"Go wait outside." he told her. "Don't get dirty."
"Yes, Papa."
She skipped out and pulled the door shut behind her, which allowed Bob to get into costume. He'd designed it himself over the years during long train rides and in breaks from work as a teenager, and it had been assembled over the course of several months as he struggled with saving up the money, followed by several weeks of painstaking sewing lessons from Mary. The design had gotten him a few laughs from the others, but once it was finished and he was wearing it, no one denied that it somehow worked.
Of course that's when he had remembered that he was still growing. He'd panicked some over it, until Willie had pointed out that there was nothing to do abut save up more money and adjust the sizing later. He'd dutifully followed that advice, but Wilhelmina's unexpected arrival into his life less than a year later had put an end to those plans.
He'd had no idea before then how expensive babies could be.
Or how loud.
Bob pushed away the memory of cowering in a corner, hands over his ears, as his baby girl had wailed endlessly on his bunk, and focused on brushing out his hair.
It had never grown to completely cover his head. Ann had brushed it for him when he was a boy, in such a way that it looked like he had a full head of hair. She had also been the one to point out that his hair had worked perfectly for a clown and had helped come up for a way for it to be worn along with his costume.
He didn't bother styling it for now. It was just for the parade, and once that was over, everyone would get out of costume and focus on raising the tent and setting up. He brushed it the way that Ann had shown him, and Pennywise the Dancing Clown looked back at him from the mirror.
OOOOOO
Several minutes later found him at the reins of his wagon as the circus parade made its way down the street. Beside him, Wilhelmina flung handfuls of candy to eager children as the crowds cheered and waved. If she snuck a piece for herself every now and then, Bob ignored it. He just might have snuck a few pieces for himself before the parade had started.
The two pairs of gray Boulonnais horses that pulled the wagon ignored the crowd as the parade reached Up Mile Hill, and Bob smiled and waved at the people they passed. Confettie rained down, fired by a canon at the front of the parade, and Bob felt the first flutterings of excitement. He hated Derry, but he loved being part of the circus, loved dancing during his shows, and most of all, he loved the smiles and joy of the children. As the parade climbed the hill, he could hear them cheering and calling to him.
"Pennywise is back!"
"Mr. Penny is here!"
"Dance, Mr. Pennywise!"
A smiled stretched across his painted face at their voices, and he heard squeals and laughter as the smile caused his large front teeth to be visble.
Wilhelmina paused in her candy throwing, and she looked in the direction of the laughter.
Bob reached out and snagged another piece of candy from her bag. "Don't stop." he told her.
She frowned, looked up at him, looked back at the crowd, and Bob wondered for a moment why she wasn't smiling anymore. She then went back to throwing candy as the parade neared the top of the hill.
They crested the hill, and the horses whinied and folded their ears back. Around them the crowd continued to wave and cheer, and Bob sat up in the seat as the hair on the back of his arms and neck stood up. A chill raced down his back, and his stomach began to churn. He swallowed and looked around, but all he saw was smiles and happy faces, and -
What was that?
There was something on the sidewalk, on the left side of the street. There was ring of empty space around it in the otherwise packed crowd, and Bob felt as though someone had a hold of his head and wouldn't let him move it. There was a vague sense of a human shape: two legs, two arms, and a head, and Bob reached up to rub at his left eye as the figure seemed to blur. The sounds of the crowd faded away, and the strange figure seemed to move closer as two glowing points of bright orange light appeared.
who are you?
The world narrowed around him, until all he could see were those two glowing points of light. His stomach twisted itself into a knot, and he felt the urge to curl up and hide his face.
"Papa!"
Bob felt himself rock backward as Wilhelmina shouted in his ear, and the world suddenly seemed to snap back into place. The noise of the crowd rushed back to him, and it seemed explosively loud compared to earlier. He dropped the reins and covered his ears as they rang.
"Papa!" He saw Wilhelmina's small, gloved hand reach out and grab the reins before they could fall, and he turned his head at where he had seen those lights.
But there was nothing. Nothing but an empty place on the sidewalk that filled with people as he watched it.
He stared until Wilhelmina slapped the reins against his hands to get him to take them back, and his heart jumped as he spun back to face the road ahead and took the reins.
"Papa, what's wrong?"
Bob only shook his head slightly, unable to form the words needed to answer his daughter's question.
OOOOOO
The crowds thinned out as the parade neared the river, and they left the last reveler behind as they crossed the bridge to the fairgrounds. The parade split up into multiple directions as different wagons went to different places.
Bob parked his wagon in its usual spot; next to the main thoroughfare that would eventually lead to the main entrance of the big top, several feet away from the large, grated drain that prevented the field from flooding during wet weather.. He and Wilhelmina climbed down from the seat, unhitched the horses, and walked them over to where the stable tent was already in the process of being erected. A stablehand took charge of the horses and led them away.
Bob began the walk back to his wagon to get out of costume, but he was stopped by Mr. Shrine before he could take more than a few steps in that direction.
"Get your hair done up, get your balloons, and head back into town to drum up some excitement for tomorrow's show. Frank will join you later."
Bob nodded. "Yes, sir."
Mr. Shrine walked away, and Bob knelt down to talk to Wilhelmina. "Go find something to do. I'm sure the voltige team could use your help. Be back at the wagon by nightfall, you hear?"
She gave him a bright smile. "Yes, Papa." He smiled at her and watched her skip off towards where the voltige team was setting up their sleeping quarters.
OOOOOO
A half hour later found Bob on a street corner in downtown Derry, next a sign that displayed the date and times of their shows, and surrounded by excited children, all eager to get one of his red balloons, especially one of the ones that he had hidden pennies inside of.
A tiny girl with black hair in tight ringlets squealed in delight when he reached behind her ear and produced a penny that he'd "found" there, and she squealed a second time when he dropped the shiny coin into her open hand. She clasped her hand over the penny, turned, and ran home, while an older boy that he assumed was her brother chased after her, yelling at her about not having gotten his balloon yet.
"Can I have a balloon, Mr. Pennywise?" a small boy asked him with a wide, dimpled smile.
Bob giggled in Pennywise's voice, a much higher pitched, somewhat squeaky, version of his normal way of speaking. "I don't know. Can you?"
The other children laughed, and Pennywise giggled again as he handed a balloon off to the child, who immediately produced a pin to pop it with. "Ah, ah, ah! I wouldn't do that if I were you! What if there's no penny in it?" There was, but the boy didn't know that. "Then you'd have no balloon and no penny! And wouldn't that be tragic?" Pennywise adopted an exaggerated, wide eyed look of horror and pretended to swoon, which sent the children into fits of giggles themselves.
A girl reached over and tugged at one of his lace trimmed cuffs at the end of his right sleeve. "What's that sticking out of your sleeve, Mr. Penny?"
Pennywise looked down at the small bit of bright red fabric that was just barely poking out off his sleeve. "Hmmm," He adopted a thoughtful expression. "I don't know." He gave the children a wide smile. "Let's find out!"
Keeping his balloons tightly held in his right hand, he reached over with his left, grabbed the cloth, and pulled. It came streaming out of his sleeve, and a piece of hard candy popped out. "Oh, where did that come from?"
The child nearest to him snatched the candy up as the other children giggled. Pennywise gave the cloth another tug, and the red piece ended with a knot that was tied to a green strip. Just behind the knot, was a bright red crayon, which was snatched up by a small hand before it could touch the ground. "I didn't put that there!" Pennywise exclaimed in a squeaky voice as he pulled on the cloth again. A tiny tin horse tumbled out and was quickly gathered up as the watching children shrieked with laughter. Another tug produced a tiny wooden soldier, which was followed by a tiny gun. ("I've never that before in my life!") The cloth changed from green to blue as another piece of candy came tumbling out.
None of the children came forward to collect it. Instead they stared at something behind him with their eyes widening. Some even took steps back. Pennywise started to turn his head to the left, to see what the children were staring at
Something hit him hard from behind. The children scattered as he stumbled forward.
"Get out of the way, pumpkin head!" came a sneering voice from behind him, and the hard blow was repeated. His balloons were snatched out of his hand as he fell foward, and he felt a kick to his backside. There was a flare of pain, and a burning in his face as he hit the rough surface of the sidewalk. His teeth then clacked hard against the ground, which made his mouth ring with pain as he yelped in pained shock. The rest of him sprawled out across the sidewalk, and the world seemed to go silent for a second as he laid there, trying to grasp what had just happened.
He faintly heard the sound of footsteps running away. "Freak!" shouted the same voice that had yelled earlier, and he felt his chest ache when he recognized the sound of a child's voice.
Bob placed his hands down and raised his head. Blood from a scrape on his forehead ran down into his left eye, blurring and distorting his vision. His right eye only saw fuzzy images of the building to his right. He wiped at his left eye with the cloth that was still sticking out of his sleeve, which allowed him to see people walking up and down both sides of the street, riding horses and carriages up the road, going in and out of buildings, just minding their own business.
Why wasn't anyone coming to help?
He felt his arms shaking as he pushed himself up, and then got to his feet. His legs shook as well, and he had to wipe at his eye again to clear away more blood. He caught the briefest glimpse of his balloons, and the pennies that they contained, disappearing into a building down at the base of Up Mile Hill.
"Bob!" There was a shout behind him, followed by running footsteps. "Bob, shit, are you all right?"
Bob didn't answer, and he felt a hand come down on his shoulder as Frank Cleary, in his guise of Snickers the clown, came around to stand in front of him. "I saw that little bastard push you. Are you okay?"
Bob didn't answer. He was shaking all over now, and blood from his forehead was dripping down to soak into the ruffles of his collar. He was vaguely aware of Frank gathering up the discarded ribbon that he'd pulled from his sleeve, along with the few trinkets that had fallen out.
"C'mon," the older clown said in a soothing tone, "let's get you back to the fairgrounds. I'm sure Doc Hart will want to see to that scrape you got there." Bob felt Frank's arm loop around his back, felt it gently turn him around, and Frank began to lead him back to the fairgrounds.
OOOOOO
Bob sat down on his bunk in his wagon when Frank told him to, and he immediately drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.
"Stay there." Frank said as he headed for the door. "I'll go fetch Doc Hart for you."
"I lost the balloons, Frank." Bob said in a small voice. "Do you think Mr. Shrine will be angry?"
He heard Frank sigh. "You didn't lose them, Bob. That damned brat stole them from you, and I'll make sure to tell him that when I see him next. Besides, the man's had a soft spot for you ever since Willie carried you into the dining car. Even if you had lost the balloons, there's no way in hell that he'd be angry. Now, sit tight. Doc will be here in a minute."
Bob put his head down on his knees, pillowed by his ruffles, and nodded.
OOOOOO
The doc came through the wagon door only a few minutes later. Bob stayed in his huddled position as the elderly man picked gravel and dirt out of the scrape and cleaned it out with some kind of foul smelling solution that stung the scrape as well as Bob's eyes.
"Frank said that someone pushed you down." he asked in that reedy voice of his, and Bob nodded.
"They took my balloons." he said quietly.
"I heard."
Bob tightened his arms around his legs. "I hate Derry."
"I know." Doc began to pack his things away. "You've never been attacked like this before though, have you?"
"Not here. I thought everyone liked me here."
"Well, what did I tell you years ago, when you were eight, after that group of boys beat you bloody?"
Bob felt his chest ache again. "Some people would always hate me because I'm different." He saw the blurred shape of the old man's wrinkled hand come down to rest on his right shoulder.
"I want you to stay in here and rest for a little while." the old man said after a pause. "I'll tell Joe what happened in town."
"He won't be mad at me, will he?"
"He won't, so don't worry about that. Now, you'd best get that costume off and relax. I mean it, I don't want to see you out there working before noon. You thumped your head pretty good, so if you start to develop a headache or dizziness, come find me immediately. Do you understand me?"
Bob nodded as Doc showed himself out, and once he was gone and the door was closed behind him, Bob uncurled himself and stood up. He opened the window above his bunk to let the light and fresh air in, and then he undid the ties that held his ruffled collar on and let it drop to the floor. It took him only a few minutes to get out of his costume and back into his normal clothes. Once the costume was hung up, he flopped down on his bunk to relax like he'd been told.
OOOOOO
Hours later found him climbing the steps up to the wagon door with legs that felt almost too heavy to lift. Despite years of doing it, it still surprised him how much work getting a circus set up was. It had taken all day with everyone helping, but everything was ready to go for their first shows the following day.
Wilhelmina was already inside, getting ready for bed, when Bob came through the door to the living area, and she started prattling on as he moved to the wash basin stand in the corner to clean up. He listened with one ear as he washed his face and hands. He heard something about the drain by the wagon and a voice, but it all slipped by him too quickly for him to think about it.
"I didn't see you in the mess tent." he told her, cutting off her chatter. "Did you eat supper?"
"Yes, Papa. I ate earlier." She paused.
"Good. Get to bed. We have more work to do tomorrow."
"Yes, Papa."
Bob dropped the towel on the table as Wilhelmina stood up and came over to him. Her arms came around his middle and squeezed, and he felt his chest ache again, but it was a different ache than what he'd felt earlier. He returned her hug and smiled down at her as she titled her head back to look up at him.
"I love you, Papa."
He raised one hand and ran it over her dark hair, hair that she shared with her mother. "I love you too, Wills."
She giggled, released the hug, and skipped off to her bunk. She climbed in, drew her privacy curtain and settled down for the night.
Bob put out the lamp, shucks his boots, closed the shutters over the windows, and got into his own bed. Worn out by the long day, he fell asleep quickly.