Terra Firma

Angel

I sighed, looking frantically upon my best guy friend passed out hopelessly on the floor of the makeshift bar, struggling to keep Cosette from hurting herself while she had another fit.

The first time I'd witnessed her having one, we were at Bruce's house for dinner. The silence at the table was severe--as tough as the steak I was slicing through (Cosette had insisted on trying to cook). The silence was not one of hostility, you could just sense the large gap between the supposed orphan turned adopted "great niece" from across the table as they ate.

Jay raised his eyebrows from across the table at me as if to say, 'It's deader in here than my Momma's mind in the crazyhouse.'

"So." Bruce cleared his throat, obviously wanting to fill the void, "Angel... how's the work at..."

"Good." I smiled pleasantly, "Just made some progress on the Arkham Files..."

Jay rolled his eyes. Cosette looked extremely interested.

"I'll bet they're fascinating to talk to..." Her voice trailed off quietly, so unlike the screaming laughter she was making in the alley, in this bar.

I'd nodded.

"Let me know when you're done. I want to write a biography on them..." Cosette began.

"What will there be to write?" Bruce snapped suddenly and dim dining room darkened further with his sudden burst of emotion, "Just meaningless sex scenes and violence."

Jay even blinked now, looking up from his plate, "That's a little harsh..."

"It's true." Bruce was rubbing his forehead. Jay and I looked up to see Cosette standing suddenly.

"It's not true. It's... It's not." She violently threw her utensils down on her plate.

"Oh yeah?" Bruce scoffed, "Are you actually telling me that people like that... people like that can..."

"People like what?"

"Like them."

Jay reached out for Cosette, for she now seemed to tremble with the darkness building in the room, like a black brick wall, separating the two even further.

"...They love--"

"Don't say they loved each other! Crazy people. Don't. Love."

"Can we calm the fuck down?" Jay suddenly said, noting that Cosette's hands were twitching so that food was dropping from her shining plate.

But they ignored him. I stayed silent, staring off into the perfect whiteness of pure porcelain glinting in the light.

"How dare you?" She spat, raising her hands to her trembling face, "How dare you say such a horrid thing."

"A horrid thing for horrid people."

Cosette twitched, "This house is horrid. This food is horrid. This fancy food...I want... I want eggs... I want..."

She trembled, seeming to want to get something further out but fighting it. It was then, as if it was a moment suspended in time, that she fell to the floor with a clunk, kicking and scratching wildly with her limbs unto the expensive looking carpet.

We all reached out for her then, forgetting all about what was exchanged, only that a friend needed help.

Cosette moved out after that. We were worried for her, worried for her health. But she insisted, saying that she couldn't live with 'that man' anymore. They'd forgiven each other now for all the little scuffles, but there was still that tangible dark brick wall between them.

No more fits after that.

Well... until now.

I bit my lip, looking up for help. No signs. People were either too drunk or off in the rides, hiding in the tents, waiting in the crooked lines. In this town, you kept your head down. You didn't know anything about anybody and you minded your own business. You didn't go out at night unless with friends. Otherwise you'd wind up like one of those crazies--either dead the next morning, or fully turned to chaos the next.

So there I was, alone, afraid, tasting an awful taste in my mouth. Something was wrong. You could smell it seeping from the tents, feel it breathing darkly down your neck. I could feel it. I could sense it.

"FIVE MINUTES."

dropped my keys... !

I was about to give up hope then, just wait for Cosette's seizure to pass and Jay's liver to give him a swift kick in the gut and jump-start his mind again. I could've just gone and sat down, stared at Jeannie Gimble's file--some meager writings on a police report from years ago--forget about this whole twisted carnival and go home. Leave my friends there. They would wake up. They would wake up and walk home, or maybe even enjoy the scene a bit more.

But then I remembered Homer.

The file could wait. This carnival was bad news. The bad taste in my mouth grew, like acid on my tongue.

But... I have no help! I can't drag two people out of here! I am just a woman... I am helpless. Hopeless. Weak. ...I am just...

What would Ivy do?

I felt my brow set itself upon my face in a determined stance as I stood up' dragging them with me, supporting the weight of a fit african american cop and a redhead who held more weight in her mind than the burly man behind me showing off with a barbel, carrying them both on my thin shoulders.

Ivy

"Muse make the man thy theme, for shrewdness famed
And genius versatile, who far and wide
A Wand’rer, after Ilium overthrown,
Discover’d various cities, and the mind
And manners learn’d of men, in lands remote.
He num’rous woes on Ocean toss’d, endured,
Anxious to save himself, and to conduct
His followers to their home..."

My ears could not believe what they were hearing. I stared, sitting on the floor with the young boy on my lap, hypnotized as The Joker recited the words from memory, holding his knife in a gloved hand, flourishing it wildly around with conviction.

So much for a Renaissance Man.

Maybe I spoke too quickly.

I did. Everyone spoke too quickly when he was around, everyone underestimated what he could do, what he could say, what he was capable of.

His painted face twisted hypnotically as more words spilled out of his mouth--nerdy, amusing, dark-toned words--but flawless and poetic. The young boy and I were frozen, clinging to every word.

Until sounds of a frantic doorbell poured into the room.

"Sister's back!" Homer smiled.

The Joker froze, pocketing his knife. His eyes shifted to me in warning. I shot up quickly as the boy named Homer ran out of the room, down the hall, his small voice ringing down the hall,

"Hi, Sis! You've got to hear this story--what's wrong with Cosette and Jay?"

"Company..." The Joker frowned. He acted quickly, grabbing me up and tugging me roughly into the bathroom connected to the guest room.

"But something's wrong! What about Cosette?"

"Sh, sh, sh." He snapped, shutting the door behind us. He went over to the sink, grabbing up a glass used to store toothbrushes, throwing them to the shiny tile floor. He stood in the bathtub, scuffing the whiteness of it with his dirty shoes. He held the glass against the wall, pressing his ear against the other end.

I used to do that as a kid. Whenever I'd try and listen in on my parents fighting over whether or not my uncle could stay, praying and hoping that the answer would be no.

But it was always yes. My dirty rotten wife-beater of a stepfather always said yes.

I shook my head, pushing dark memories away, "What's going on?"

He held a gloved finger to his red lips, squinting.

Angel

"Thanks. Thank you so much. What's your name again?"

"Goo--"

"Charlie," the dark skinned one replied quickly, "And I am Samuel."

The man named Charlie looked over Cosette warily, now lying still in her bed, no doubt unconscious.

"She gonna be alright?"

"Yes..." I said quietly, patting Homer's head, "She always wakes up, about an hour or so after one. I don't know what happened..."

I'd lain Jay out on her couch after forcing him to drink some water. He was snoring away lightly. Homer was frantic, tugging at my shirt impatiently.

"Angel! Angel! I want to show you my new friends! C'mon..." He whined. I rolled my eyes.

"Homer, there are more pressing matters at hand and you get a new imaginary friend every week..."

"They tell stories!"

"Everyone tells stories!"

He scowled, rubbing his eyes tiredly beneath his glasses. I sighed,

"I'm sorry. Right now is a stressful time..."

"Well..." the man named Samuel said, warily eyeing the door as if monsters would exit any moment, "...At least things won't get any worse..."

As soon as the fatal words left his mouth, there was a violent tremor and a too-near explosion went off. Homer screamed as I grasped to him tightly, Charlie whirled, and Samuel shouted like a woman.

You have five minutes to find my keys, before this popstand blows!