Chapter Six
Plodding along the boardwalk, Torrey looked up towards the gulls that were crying above him. They screeched as they lazily darted up and around the grey swells beyond the beach. The sky was overcast, but the air was still warm. Since it was the weekend, he learned he didn't need to go to the school, so he had decided to go out and explore the southern side of town. Adrien could not come with him, saying he had a date with a girl from class, but he was the one who suggested the southern part, giving him directions to the beach. Torrey didn't mind, he didn't understand the complicated relationships that the boys here had with girls anyway, so he didn't ask about it.
He was admiring the churning water when a large red object caught his eye. He turned his head, and the red object became instantly familiar. It was a bright, shining circus tent, further down the boardwalk. Excitedly, he trotted towards it with a big smile draped across his face.
As he neared it, he could smell the popcorn, and a line of people weaved in and out around the main tent, leading all the way out to the path.
"Excuse me," he asked, poking a short, white-haired man with a tweed jacket on the shoulder. "…but where does this line go to?"
The old man glanced at him amiably, his cloudy blue eyes squinting.
"Why, this is for the Campbell Circus. Been coming to see it for years. Best circus I've ever seen…"
"Would you happen to know at what time it is starting? This evening?" he gazed past the line, towards the far side of the main tent. A throng of clowns and masked people were striding in and out of a slit in the tent material.
"Oh, they start about eight o'clock every night, never late. You getting a ticket, lad?"
"Not right now, but I'll get one soon enough." He began to move around the man.
"You might want to hurry, you only have about forty-five minutes until they start!" His call faded, as Torrey walked past the line, around the outer edge of the circus grounds. He casually went past the ticket booth, hiding behind a white horse that was being led to the area where the trailers were kept. As he neared the other entryway, the person leading the horse turned off the right, and he snuck quietly to the tent. Jumping behind a trash bin, a black and white painted clown suddenly emerged from the tent flap. When she was gone, he slipped into the main tent.
Inside, the dim lights cast a dull, orange light on the scene unfolding within. Masked people dressed in a dazzling array of colors swept before him, and he heard the sounds of violins and accordions. Some were talking amongst themselves, twirling juggling balls and batons in their hands. One man was lighting and relighting a long stick, which he then playfully plunked into his mouth and quickly pulled out again. Torrey saw a pile of masks and scarves next to a wooden barrel, and he promptly grabbed out a small white mask, decorated with curling plaster whiskers around the edges and painted with orange and red dots. He also found a shimmering blue-knotted scarf, and tied it around his head.
Pretending to be cleaning a rusty birdcage that was sitting in a stark area of the tent, the activity began to pick up, and the atmosphere buzzed with noise and energy. No one seemed to notice him.
"Laaaadies and gentlemaaaan, boooooys and girrrrrrls, are you ready to be thrilled to the very cores of your souls?"
A great rumbling voice vibrated in the air, and an even bigger noise responded as he heard the crowd roar. He made his way to a small hole cut in the tent's cloth, and he saw a scrawny man wearing a silver top hat and a ruby red mask open his arms out to the audience as they cheered.
"Then please put your hands together, for the lovely, Joanne of the Spanish Web!"
The audience exploded, as a woman in a glittering indigo leotard walked out of the far right side, and strode up to the ringmaster. Then he ran off, and she grasped a long rope hanging down from the ceiling, and climbed up. Torrey looked her over carefully, but she was far older and taller then Helena. She had the same grace that Helena had, he noticed, but it was definitely not her. Perhaps, he thought, Helena was dressed as a clown or something. Standing back from his peephole, he looked about the tent. There were fewer people scurrying around him, and it appeared most of the performers were huddled on the opposite side, where Joanne had made her entrance into the ring. Adjusting the curly mask on his face, he slowly moved closer to the other performers, but remained against the outer edge of the tent. He was glad he had decided to wear his normal clothing out, as the others were dressed in a fashion similar to him, which he thought was strange. In his head, he wondered if they too led the double life, being from the land of Light and Dark, but living in this strange world.
As he scanned the other performers, some having light-hearted conversations with others, he saw a recognizable figure. They were short, wearing a shiny, dark green leotard, with a simple black eyemask over their face. Wispy, brown hair stuck out under the mask's string.
"Yeah, I was just telling him, he doesn't need the rubber chicken, he's pretty good all by himself, if he would just lay off the horrible ventriloquist act, he'd be fine." Helena's soft voice said, loud enough for him to hear. The people standing next to her laughed with gusto.
"I think May has had enough of that, I heard she threw out that chicken yesterday." A squat man in a heavy yellow mask exclaimed, and shook his head.
"Poor Henry, I think he was attached to that thing. Wouldn't talk about it." Another person, a gangly woman in a violet eyemask chuckled, and patted the squat man on the shoulder. They all laughed lightly.
"Oh, that's me. Can you hand me those juggling pins?" Helena said, thanking them as she rushed out the parted curtains next to the group. The booming staccato voice was unintelligible the closer Torrey walked to where the people were standing. He faced away from the performers and peeked through a slit in the curtains. She was set across from the ringmaster, who was now dressed in white overcoat, and had taken off his hat. They were juggling white pins back and forth to each other, her smile astounding in the muted spotlights of the tent.
"Wow…" he muttered as he stared at them. They were perfectly in sync, not missing a beat.
Soon the orchestra, which he noted was a few notches out of tune, stopped, the audience applauded and she darted back to the entrance. When she appeared out in front of him, the large group of performers applauded her as well, and some gave her a few hugs. Visibly exhausted, she trotted over to a small water cooler. She took a large gulp from one of the little cups that were stacked on it, her eyes closed in relief. He took a few steps closer to her.
When she opened her eyes, she stepped back in surprise. Coughing, she covered her mouth.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, so startled me!" She looked up at him, first with a friendly smile, which turned into a suspicious glare.
"Excuse me, but I believe that's Henry's mask, and you're not Henry." Her eyebrows furrowed.
Torrey raised up his arm, and slid the mask off his face. Helena's eyes widened, and she gasped.
"What are YOU doing here?" She growled ferociously.
"You said you worked at the circus, so I thought I'd drop by." Torrey grinned slyly.
She shoved him, and walked over to a steamer trunk, where all the masks lay in a heap.
"You're lucky that was my last act. Now get out of here." She hissed, her back turned as she took off her eyemask.
"Well, I actually came here to ask you a few things…" He said courteously.
She ignored him, throwing miscellaneous scarves and articles of clothing that had fallen on the floor back into the streamer trunk.
"How did you know about my tower?" He demanded.
Helena stood up stick straight. Pivoting around to stare at him, he didn't move.
"You looked like someone I knew…tell me your real name."
"It's Torrey actually. Not very creative, I'm afraid."
Her face was unreadable. She then turned around, and walked out the back entrance, towards the trailers, finding her small one tucked behind her parents' trailer.
Terry ran after her, hands shoved into his pants' pockets.
"Wait!" he yelled.
Helena ran up the stairs into her trailer, and he followed her. She heard the door slam, and turned around to face him.
"Do you know a Valentine?" She asked forcefully, in the darkness, the only light the bright neon ones coming from the lights outside.
"He's my brother." He said quietly.
They both were silent as the revelation sat in the air, stagnant.
With a sigh, Terry broke the calm.
"So, how do you know him?"
"I created him. And I suppose along the way, I created you too." She said breathlessly, and sat down on her bed.
Terry's face contorted, confused. "Created?" He asked.
"I drew the City of Light and the City of Dark. And Valentine, well…he's a wooden marionette I made. They were all just… in my head."
"Not anymore…" He muttered softly. Walking over to her, he sat down next to her on the bed.
"How did you get here? Why did you come?"
"I used this mirrormask…" He pulled an inky blue, shiny vinyl mask out of his pocket.
"It was boring in that world, so I thought maybe the mask would take me somewhere more…interesting. My old job was just dull as anything…"
"What did you do there?" she said.
"I used to play this," he pulled his mandolin off the cord strapped to his back, " for the Queen of Light's orchestra. But I find the "school" thing much more fun. Especially since most of the lessons are incredibly easy, and you seem to have such a hard time learning anything." He giggled.
"I am NOT stupid, in fact I think you got most of the answers wrong on the last test we had in Mathematics."
"You keep telling yourself that…" Torrey replied smugly.
She glared at him. "Why are you in here anyway?"
"Well…" he took a breath, "I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I was hoping we could patch things up. Be friends."
Gazing at his face, she couldn't help but notice the same twinkling glow that she had also seen in Valentine's.
"You and him are so very much alike… and yet different." She whispered.
"Hmm." He exhaled noisily. "You are somethin' else."
He paused, and then suddenly, he leaned in, and kissed her on the mouth. Her eyes were still open, caught off guard. Baffled by the familiarity of the intense pressure and pleasure that she felt when she kissed Valentine, she immediately pulled away, knowing that it wasn't him.
"What? What happened?" A confused Torrey asked. He tried leaning close to her again, but she held her palm up.
"No. Please. You need to leave." She said, distraught.
"But why?" He got up, but was persistent.
"This isn't right. Now go." She was now pushing him out the door of the trailer.
Once he was outside, Helena slammed the door in his face. Stunned and a little angry, Torrey walked away, saying things under his breath.
Inside, Helena was coiled up on her bed, hugging her knees, shaking her head. She was unsure what to think.