Free The Guild of Fallen Clowns by Francis Xavier

and give you both a big hug.” They
released their grip and reached for Alan as he kneeled down to
their level. The two jumped into his waiting arms.
    “See what you’re missing, Alan?” Cheryl
said.
    Dale added, “Yeah, Boogy. You know you can
come by more often. It’s not right that the only time we see you
anymore is when we order pizza. Hell, you only live ten minutes
from here.”
    “I know, guys. I really should make more of
an effort. It’s not that I don’t want to see you. We just have odd
hours.”
    “That’s true, but Cheryl’s always here. You
don’t have to wait till our schedules work. Stop in anytime. The
girls would love to see you more often. When you bring the pizzas,
you always have to run.”
    “Yeah, Alan, do you have to go already?
Can’t you stay and have a slice before leaving?” Cheryl said.
    “Well, as a matter of fact, I’m done for the
night. I can stick around awhile.”
    “Great! Oh wait, it’s early. Why are you off
already?” Dale asked.
    Alan didn’t want to share the disappointment
of his suspension, so he lied. “I wasn’t scheduled but things got
tight and I offered to help out for a few hours. Don’t ask
questions, detective. Let’s just go inside so you can eat your
pizza.”
    Cheryl looked down to the twins and said,
“Did you hear that girls? Uncle Boogy is staying to have dinner
with us.” The girls cheered with excitement. Each grabbed a hand
and dragged Alan into the kitchen.
    Cheryl got the plates out and cut a slice
into bite-size pieces for the girls.
    “Go ahead, Alan, take some,” Cheryl
said.
    “That’s okay, you don’t have enough. I’m not
really hungry anyway.”
    Cheryl took a slice from the box, placed it
on a plate, and handed it to Alan. “Now get yours, Dale. I’m not
going to feed all of you.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Dale said as he eagerly took a
piece from the box.
    Alan took a bite and noticed lines etched
into one of the doorjambs into the kitchen. One was about three
feet high with the words “Little Man” written above it. He pointed
to it and said, “That was right after Dad died.”
    “How do you know?” Dale said.
    “Because that’s when Mom started calling you
Little Man.”
    “Really? I thought she called me that since
I was a baby.”
    “No. She started calling you that after Dad
died because you always mimicked him. You didn’t stop when he was
gone. Instead, you did it more.”
    “Really, I don’t remember any of that.”
    “All I did was cry for a long time after he
died. I wasn’t Mom’s little man. As the older brother, I should
have stepped up, but I didn’t.”
    “Stepped up? You were only seven. You didn’t
do anything wrong. And you shouldn’t feel bad about it,” Dale
said.
    Alan didn’t want to make it about him, and
the truth was that he never gave it much thought. The memory might
still be repressed if Dale had painted over the markings on the
doorjamb.
    “Look, Boogy. I may have acted like Dad, but
I barely remember him. You were older. Of course his death would be
harder on you, but you should feel lucky to at least have some
memories of him. That thing with the paint is a good example. I
would give anything to be able to remember that.”
    Alan looked at his little brother and said,
“If you want to know who Dad was, take a good look in the mirror.
I’m not saying you look like him. You look more like Mom, but
everything else about you is Dad. You even became a cop.”
    “I’m sure you’re a lot like him too, Boogy,”
Dale said.
    “No, Dale. Don’t get me wrong. I’m okay with
it. I’m happy about it because looking at you helps me remember
Dad. I’m just saying it might help you to do the same. If you want
to know him, you don’t have to look far.”
    “Aw, that’s so sweet,” Cheryl said.
    Her words snapped Dale and Alan out of
it.
    “We gotta stop talking like this, Boogy.
We’re starting to sound like women.”
    “Yeah, right. What were we thinking?”