Sister Location: Our Circus Act

Chapter 2: Strangers And Strangeness

•/•/•-Amy's POV-•/•/•

It dripped again, then again. I wasn't crying. I looked up. It definitely is coming from that crack up there
"Mommy!" I removed the paper from where it was dripping, setting it on the nightstand. I opened the door and shouted, "Mommy! The roof is leaking again! Over my bed!"
"You can just work on the floor. Like use a book as a table and sit on the carpet."
"But I wouldn't sleep in a bathtub later, would I?"
I think he chuckled, but I wasn't sure because that moment Daddy went out of his room, with his famous blue toolkit. He grabbed a stool from the corner, just behind the door, then stood on it, observing the wet crack.
"So, what now?" Alfred dropped his pen and looked at me. "That gonna stop you from working?"
"Not a chan—aah!"
I felt my legs push me up a full foot in the air. The thunder's crackle lingered in the air for a moment. It surprised Daddy pretty much too, since he seemed to lose balance.
I sat on the floor just beside the chair Alfred was on, continuing to skim through a math book. In a while I heard a heavy thump, making me look up and see Daddy land on his feet, dragging the stool back to the corner. The crack was almost completely gone.
"Thanks Daddy!" I said. But I wasn't even done speaking when he nodded with a smile, walking away.
"Let me make a wild guess. He doesn't like cuddles."
I shrugged, sitting on the part of the bed that didn't have a wet spot. I placed Simple Square Roots on my lap, using it to write the next part of the symposium plan. Alfred was good at reading gestures, and he definitely was right. "He wasn't. Even when I was small. He was always working in his room, and sometimes even brings his toolkit out."
"Oh. That why you call it the famous toolkit?"
I nodded.
"Okay. I'm halfway done with the computations." Alfred leaned back on the chair, sighing. "My hands ache. Hey, can I see that thick book?"
"What, this?" I held up Simple Square Roots, placing my own solving paper on my lap temporarily.
"No, the one you borrowed! Was it Integers And Tea, the name?"
"Oh. Integer-ity." I put the book in my hand beside me, reaching for the thick book way beyond the bed, on my pillow and touching the headboard. As soon as I grasped the thick book with both hands, I said, "Better be careful. The library says it's a bit fragile."
While I extended both hands to hand over the book, he eyed it, nodding when his eyes rested somewhere near the part where the pages just seemed to be shoved in. "Yeah. This should be good. Integers are something I don't know of."
"Al," I said while he opened the book on his lap, "integers are basically just whole negative or positive numbers. You don't know integers, you couldn't even solve that!" I pointed at his nearly full intermediate paper of solutions.
He just shrugged. "Fine. You're the queen of math, then."
I continued writing down the symposium plan. For some minutes we were like that, silent, until there was something loud. Like a car crash. Wait. Car crash?
"Alfred, did you hear that?" I backed up a bit so I touched the headboard. That was really terrifying.
"Yeah." He looked up from Integer-ity. He looked really nervous, which worried me. He never looks this nervous unless he found something seriously scarring. "I did."
I went on my haunches. "Should we check it out?"
"Umm, nah—" There was another loud crash. Alfred's scream sounded like a cat when you step on its tail. It's kinda funny. "Okay, let's check it out!"
"Wait, what?" I pointed at the window. "You heard that and now you want to go out? You're nuts!"
"Then screw me," he said, hopping off the chair. His light purple shirt had dark spots near the neck. He was sweating in this cold climate? "Come on, we have to check it out."
"Aaaal," I said, trying hard to still sound authoritative. "The first crash was plain creepy. The next one's scary. You don't—"
There was another crash.
"Mommyyyy!" I shouted, standing and kneeing Simple Square Roots in the process. This thing's getting way beyond creepy. "Daddy!"
I didn't wait for footsteps. I ran off, nearly tripping over myself down the staircase, where Mommy met me. Daddy was nowhere to be found, but I heard soft drilling from somewhere behind me. Probably him.
"Mommy, I heard a—"
"I heard it too," she whispered, pressing my face on her duster. "Don't worry, I checked it. It probably came from somewhere in the next neighborhood."
"Mommy, you're lying." I pulled away and looked at her face. "I know when you're lying. What really happened? I want to see it myself!"
She just sighed. "Look out your window, Amy. The rain stopped earlier. You can see things clearly, and you'll know I'm saying the truth."
So I did. I turned around and nearly fell off in surprise upon seeing Alfred standing there this whole time. I tried to brush off his laughing, which wasn't too hard when there was another loud crash. He was silent. So was I.
"Maybe it was from your dad's room?" Alfred said while we walked up.
I shook my head, closing my room door behind me. "I listened well. It definitely came from outside. And we're about to find out why."
I pulled aside the curtains and unlocked the windows. The moment I did, the smell of fresh, wet earth met me. It took me a while to adjust to the darkness, before I made out the many cars zipping on the road and the orange lampposts glinting faintly. I looked around. Nothing looked out of place.
"Well?" I heard Alfred's footsteps shuffle behind me. "Anything out there?"
I shook my head, scanning my eyes around. "Mommy was right."
I turned around, screaming a bit when Alfred happened to be standing right behind me. He seemed startled, jerking his arms away from him, perhaps as a defense mechanism for whatever's gonna hit him. He was holding a book. The book hit me, making me fall on the floor. Domino effect. The moment I fell down, I realized Alfred had some of his weight rested on me because he fell forward, tripping over my legs and having half his body thrown out the window.
Oh no!
"Al!" I jerked him, making him fall on the floor, breathing heavily. He clutched his chest while his blue eyes moved wildly, sitting so straight. "Alfred, it's okay, it's okay. That was really cramped, I know, and too close for comfort, but you're safe—"
"I-I'm sorry . . . Amy, that book I was holding!" He continued to go on through heavy breaths. "That was Integer-ity, and I . . . dropped it somewhere!"
I nodded, patting his back. "It's okay, it's okay. What's important is you're—wait, what?" I lost sympathy for a while. I slapped his shoulder, making him let out something that sounded like a restrained scream. "Are you serious? It just finished raining! It must be so darned muddy now!"
"I know, and I'm sorry!"
I stood up, sighing. "Well, no use pointing fingers. You come with me and get it."
He just nodded, standing up. But before he can say something I said, "Alfred, are you okay? Can you go down? I mean, that was a bad scare back there—"
"Yeah, I'm fine, big sis." He grinned, shaking his hands in the same way you'd brush dust with a broom. "Come on. I was thinking . . . while we're down, why don't we look at what caused the noise earlier? At least just look at the backyard. Just to clear it up?"
I scratched the back of my head. "Even when you just had a near death experience? A guy with claustrophobia and an unbelievable curiosity. I should make a book about that."
"Yeah, when you reach that author dream. Which is like a bajillion years from now—ouch!"
He clutched his shoulder, wincing like a sword pierced it. I didn't know my own strength. "Come on. And just because I joked it doesn't mean you're cleared up, Mr. Alfred Fordham."
I didn't bother closing the window; the earthy smell was too attractive for me. After Alfred grabbed his jacket we went downstairs, leaving the door open since it's so creaky when I close it. Mommy was probably still cooking by the smells we were sniffing, so she didn't see us. Alfred put on his rubber shoes first, which took like forever, before we went out to the yard. Alfred closed the door as gently as he can, earning him a look from me.
He shrugged. "You don't exactly have permission to go out, do you?"
I shrugged myself, looking around. For the first time, there was a different air. Some spots on the ground were muddy. Lamplights had faint reflections on the puddles. The sky had a waxing gibbous moon (I have my science teacher to thank for the term) with many white dots of stars. Rather than have a fence we had high black gates, so I can only hear the hustle and bustle outside. Everything was just so different from the windows. And even if I saw this a ton of times before with my parents, without them, there was just something so different.
"You okay?" Alfred snapped his fingers in my face.
I pushed his hand down, smiling. "You probably know I haven't been outside all alone in a while."
"Then what do you call me, a ghost?"
It took me a few seconds before I got what he meant. "No! I mean that, well, without my parents. You know."
The earthy wet smell came around. It was weirdly soothing. I looked up and saw the window open, and directly below it branches of bougainvilleas.
"Okay. It may be by those bushes, Al."
We went there, pushing apart the few leaves we saw. In the process of removing I fell down face-first, crushing a ton of twigs at once and shrieking when I realized they were sharp. And that I was covered in mud.
"Are you okay?" Alfred said, extending a hand. He was obviously trying to hold back a laugh, and I wouldn't hold it against him; I laughed at him tripping a bunch of times before. Still, he never experienced falling in something like this before.
I just pushed myself up, ignoring his hand, immediately regretting it; my palms got extremely muddy. "It's definitely not here. Fudge you, Al. You had to drop it down the window."
"I already said I'm sorry! And it has to be somewhere near here." Suddenly he widened his eyes. "What happened to that?"
He pointed to my exposed arm. There was a cut running through it. I just pressed against it with my palm. "We can handle that later. You look here. I'll look somewhere else."
Alfred circled the spot under the window. While he looked around, I searched the grass, knowing it's possible the dark may make it impossible to see it even if it was so openly exposed on the ground—
"Aha! Here it is!" I walked over to an exposed patch on grass, seeing the dark shadow over it. "Can you pick it up? I'm all muddy."
Alfred walked over and picked it up. Then there was a crunch. We both froze, looking at each other, and there was that same tension as the loud crashes. Only this time, what we heard wasn't as loud nor as serious.
"I was just imagining it," I muttered, reassuring myself. Yeah. It's my first time out without my parents. I just imagined it, and Alfred may have stopped as the same time as me for some other reason.
"Hey Amy, what's that strange figure?" Alfred whispered, leaning a bit closer while he pointed somewhere to the right of the house. Something that appeared black from here shifted and disappeared.
I shrugged. I felt goosebumps form on my skin, but I tried to hide it. "Um, maybe we'd better get inside."
But Alfred already began sprinting. I sighed, going after him, knowing his curiosity will probably get him harmed again. Like what happened with him, the library staircase, and the stray puppy.
"Alfred!"
I could hear his footsteps over the grass. Our garden needed mowing, and for once the tall grass made things useful. Suddenly, when I was nearing the back of my house, I heard what sounded like a chihuahua with something stuffed in its mouth. It was an odd sound.
Wait. Odd . . . like the crash. What's the connection?
I guess my curiosity took over me, too. I sneaked past, peering through the corner where two walls met so I can't be seen. I heard the chihuahua again, but I can't see anything.
I stepped forward, looking around. It looked pretty normal, but the chihuahua was still there. It kept yapping with something stuffed in its mouth.
"Darned neighbor's dog again," I muttered, knowing the yapping will only blow our cover or something, since the whatever-that-is may be more alert.
Until I realized it sounded like it was saying something.
"Mee, witch ert!"
I looked up. It came from the portico roof! Only I wasn't expecting what was there.
A man in a full black suit. Alfred with a hand over his mouth, his snow white jacket and navy blue Bermuda-length denims a bit muddy. His chest moved up and down rapidly, sweat intense, hands bound behind him by something that looked like handcuffs. That, or silver rope.
"Amy, watch out!" Alfred managed to pull free from the man's grasp, water spilling from his eyes like a river.
But it was too late, I guess. I felt something hit my head, and then something like cold water on my neck, before I saw the tall grass, and everything went dark. I heard a scream from Alfred.
Or was it from me?

•••

"Isn't that cute?" Chloe whispered, her eyes rested on a tiger cub.
Amy wasn't paying that much attention. She was busy gazing at the tigress at the corner, licking the fur of the other cubs. Involuntarily, she giggled.
"Attention!" Amy looked up at the speaker, her little green eyes focusing on the big gray object in the corner. "Attention! Everyone, the zoo will close in ten minutes. Thank you for spending your day at Hi Zoo, and we, together with our animal friends, really hope to see you again very soon!"
"Let's go, Amy." Chloe grabbed her hand, pulling her along through the crowds.
"Chloe, how can those tiny tigers be big bad cats when they grow up?" Amy said, turning her head behind her. She could've sworn the cubs were staring at her before she looked at them.
"Because, Amy, that's nature—" Chloe gasped when Amy, not looking forward, tripped on herself, pressing her weight on Chloe, making Chloe grab her little sister with both arms. "Amy! You're six now! You should be able to walk properly already!"
"I'm turning seven in a month!"
"The point works the same way." Chloe shook her head, her black hair waving from side to side. "Oh my glop, Amy. Why am I stuck with you while Mom and Dad can waste away their cash on sundaes?"
"I want sundaes too!" Amy squealed, jumping up and down. Her waist-length, light brown hair, loose on her shoulders and almost completely obscuring her blue dress, spread all over her face, her purple headband with fluffy cat ears falling on the floor.
"Amy!" Chloe sighed, stooping down to pick it up. She was about to place it on Amy's head, but instead kept it in a single hand, diving the other hand in her fuzzy purple purse.
"Clo-Clo!" Amy shrieked and tried to reach for her headband, which her taller sister lifted high above her. When she got tired of her tiptoes, she stomped her foot. "Chloe! My headband!"
"Shut up! It looks silly on you anyway." Finally, Chloe took out her hand, revealing two blue elastic bands. "Can you hold the ears? Don't wear it."
As soon as it was within her grasp, Amy grabbed the headband. Then eventually, Chloe began combing Amy's hair with her fingers, pulling her to the side so they won't disturb the steady outward flow of the crowd.
"Chloe, what are you doing? Ouch—ow!"
"Don't—flinch—much!" Chloe tried to untangle her fingers from the mess of light brown hair. And after a few more tugs and pulls, she managed to get it in her desired shape, fastening it with the blue bands.
"What are you doing?"
"There!" Chloe smiled. "I'll show you later. Can we just go to Mom and Dad now?"
"Fine, but hold this." She handed her the headband.
Chloe slipped it in her purse, leading Amy by the hand over past the thinning crowds, weaving through a maze of ways, signs, and cages of sleeping animals before they reached a standalone brick building, with glass panes at the front.
"Mom! Dad!" Chloe called, still leading Amy by the hand as they went inside. The bell tinkled as the glass doors touched it.
While Chloe was preoccupied keeping their parents up-to-date on what they encountered, Amy looked at the man beside her, who was shining the glass surface of the circular brown table. When he left, Amy looked at the glass, and was met by two faint green eyes and two shoulder-length pigtails.
Amy took a deep breath. "I'm not a kid anymore!"
Chloe looked at her. "Would you shush? Hey, it suits you fine, Bellamy."
Amy just pouted, folding her arms together. She'll never trust Chloe with her hairstyles again.