show.
“I just don’t think that I’m going to like this play.”
The T heatre’s seats were nearly full on each level when a clown walked out onto the sand. Applause erupted around the stadium and thousands of citizens of Ramus clapped as he made his way to the center. The clown was tall, I could see even at a distance. His pronounced cheekbones, small lips and nose indicated that he was a Salyer. His shoulders were wide and thick under his red, blue and yellow jumpsuit. The outfit stopped at his shoulders in frilly bunches of color and thick veiny arms hung on either side of his body. His face was painted a sick white—not the white of a cloud or of a dove, but the kind of white that can be found on a fish’s belly. It was the color that a man turns when he is drained of all of his blood. The clown had about thirty thin strands of black hair hanging off of his scalp and falling all about his head. His lips and nose were painted a crimson red that speckled onto his cheeks as if he had just got done eating straight from a carcass. His eyes were deep purples and swollen blacks. His irises were a washed out blue that made him look blind.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome! Good morning to all!” the clown said. His voice echoed through speakers around the Theatre. The crowd hushed. “As many of you know, my name is Georgie the Clown.”
The crowd again erupted in applause and whistles as Georgie turned and took animated bows towards each section. The clown was flexible and with his knees locked he bowed so low that his black hair touched the sand. “Thank you!” Georgie licked his lips all the way around his mouth. “We have a great show at the Theatre today. You know, one of the things that I think we need to do here is to lighten up. We need to laugh more.” Georgie’s eyes opened wide and he fell into hysterical cackles. Scattered people in the crowd laughed along. The clown was scaring Saul, so he buried his eyes in his hands. Georgie wiped his eyes and after laughing a little more he said, “So, without further adieu , I present to you , a little game of cat and mouse…or something like it.” Georgie opened his hands up to indicate the prison cells underneath me that I couldn’t see and then scooted to the side of the arena.
People on the other side of the sand began to laugh before I could see what was going on. Men, women, and children—all naked except for black half circle costume ears on their heads, long black tails, and white gloves—began to run out onto the sand. They were the mice, and fifty of them scattered all over the arena, some screaming as they went. I noticed that all but one of them had hair. This mice man was clearly a Salyer and I wondered what he had done to get thrown in with the Grecos and Beardsleys.
“Don’t look, Saul,” I told him. For some reason though, I wasn’t able to obey my own advice. I heard Saul weeping beside me and my eyes seemed to not be able to move from the sand.
Dogs began barking from the side of the stadium and then I saw them rush out over the sand. They were huge dogs, bigger than I had ever seen in any film, and their muscular backs flexed and stretched as they glided across the ground. One of the mice turned and began to run where I could see his face. I saw his ponytail flopping behind him and recognized the naked teen; it was Blaine Trotter, the boy who I had scrubbed the floors with. My heart ached at this recognition and I saw fear flash in his eyes. He looked up into the crowd and for a moment I was sure that he saw me. Why was this happening? He was a good guy!
The dogs overcame the mice—every single one. They brought them down with sharp teeth and claws and blood and intestines were spilled onto the ground. I watched Blaine die. I watched them all die. The crowd cheered and the dogs ripped at throats and even the fastest of
“I just don’t think that I’m going to like this play.”
The T heatre’s seats were nearly full on each level when a clown walked out onto the sand. Applause erupted around the stadium and thousands of citizens of Ramus clapped as he made his way to the center. The clown was tall, I could see even at a distance. His pronounced cheekbones, small lips and nose indicated that he was a Salyer. His shoulders were wide and thick under his red, blue and yellow jumpsuit. The outfit stopped at his shoulders in frilly bunches of color and thick veiny arms hung on either side of his body. His face was painted a sick white—not the white of a cloud or of a dove, but the kind of white that can be found on a fish’s belly. It was the color that a man turns when he is drained of all of his blood. The clown had about thirty thin strands of black hair hanging off of his scalp and falling all about his head. His lips and nose were painted a crimson red that speckled onto his cheeks as if he had just got done eating straight from a carcass. His eyes were deep purples and swollen blacks. His irises were a washed out blue that made him look blind.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome! Good morning to all!” the clown said. His voice echoed through speakers around the Theatre. The crowd hushed. “As many of you know, my name is Georgie the Clown.”
The crowd again erupted in applause and whistles as Georgie turned and took animated bows towards each section. The clown was flexible and with his knees locked he bowed so low that his black hair touched the sand. “Thank you!” Georgie licked his lips all the way around his mouth. “We have a great show at the Theatre today. You know, one of the things that I think we need to do here is to lighten up. We need to laugh more.” Georgie’s eyes opened wide and he fell into hysterical cackles. Scattered people in the crowd laughed along. The clown was scaring Saul, so he buried his eyes in his hands. Georgie wiped his eyes and after laughing a little more he said, “So, without further adieu , I present to you , a little game of cat and mouse…or something like it.” Georgie opened his hands up to indicate the prison cells underneath me that I couldn’t see and then scooted to the side of the arena.
People on the other side of the sand began to laugh before I could see what was going on. Men, women, and children—all naked except for black half circle costume ears on their heads, long black tails, and white gloves—began to run out onto the sand. They were the mice, and fifty of them scattered all over the arena, some screaming as they went. I noticed that all but one of them had hair. This mice man was clearly a Salyer and I wondered what he had done to get thrown in with the Grecos and Beardsleys.
“Don’t look, Saul,” I told him. For some reason though, I wasn’t able to obey my own advice. I heard Saul weeping beside me and my eyes seemed to not be able to move from the sand.
Dogs began barking from the side of the stadium and then I saw them rush out over the sand. They were huge dogs, bigger than I had ever seen in any film, and their muscular backs flexed and stretched as they glided across the ground. One of the mice turned and began to run where I could see his face. I saw his ponytail flopping behind him and recognized the naked teen; it was Blaine Trotter, the boy who I had scrubbed the floors with. My heart ached at this recognition and I saw fear flash in his eyes. He looked up into the crowd and for a moment I was sure that he saw me. Why was this happening? He was a good guy!
The dogs overcame the mice—every single one. They brought them down with sharp teeth and claws and blood and intestines were spilled onto the ground. I watched Blaine die. I watched them all die. The crowd cheered and the dogs ripped at throats and even the fastest of
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