Mom, I'm Bulletproof

Chapter 9.3: The Old Pit

Curtain stared down into the trap door, but there was only darkness beneath the stage floor. Proscenium again waved his fingers. A faint light appeared from below, revealing a steep staircase leading straight down.

"The Old Pit is a sacred place," he said. "Only I may reveal it."

He led her down the staircase, each step feeling like precipitous drop. "The Old Pit is the exact spot where the Great Playwright created the first Proscenium and the first Curtain."

At the bottom of the stairs, Proscenium led Curtain over to an assortment of glass cases displaying props and stage equipment representing the history of the theater.

"As Curtain, you have one ability I do not – the feeling. On rare occasions, you can sense intentions of good and evil. Someday, when you become Proscenium in my place, you will lose this power. You must learn to know good and evil only from outside stimuli, from observing the people and their relationship to this city. This is why your current studies are so important."

"I know," she said softly. "But why show me this room? Why now?"

"I walked into another trap tonight. Blindly. Foolishly. Someone is organizing my past enemies and arming them against me. I am unable to discern who would do this, and how they know where and when to strike."

"I want to help."

"That is why I've brought you down here. This room is the heart of Theater City. The life energy of the city flows through this space, and it is that same energy that is the source of your feeling."

"Tell me what to do."

"This girl, U.S. Amy. Can I believe her, or this is another trap? She wants to me to journey outside Theater City. What if this is ploy to attack the city in my absence?"

"What do I do?"

"This is your space. You belong here. Trust your instincts."

She walked forward and sat on the hard, dusty floor. She placed her hands on her thighs, closed her eyes, and concentrated. Proscenium stood motionless, watching.

Minutes passed before Curtain opened her eyes again.

"It's the same feeling I had before," she said. "U.S. Amy is on the side of good. I don't think anything's going to come out of this meeting she's holding, but I feel that you should go."

"You're certain?"

"I'm a certain Curtain."

Proscenium nodded. He led her up the stairs and sealed the entrance to the Old Pit behind them.

"Does this mean you're going?" Curtain asked.

"I shall." Proscenium sat at the antique organ against the stage's rear wall. "But I will not trust anyone there."

"But I had the feeling."

"That is why I will go. I thank you, but you are still only a student."

She pouted. He played the organ, pressing the keys in precise order and rhythm to summon purple smoke from inside of it. The smoke flowed downward and swirled around Curtain.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome."

The smoke drew upward and into the organ, as if sucked in by a powerful vacuum. When it was gone, curtain was gone with it.

Proscenium played again, the smoke reemerging and transforming him from Proscenium back into Arthur, the theater's nighttime janitor. He picked up U.S. Amy's business card from he left it on Curtain's desk, and slipped it into his pocket.

Arthur left backstage, walking down a maintenance hallway, past an employee-only bathroom and shower, before finally reaching the janitor's storeroom. He unlocked it and went inside, where he had a cot, all his clothes, a miniature fridge, a coffee maker, and a microwave oven.

He undressed and spread out on the cot, ready for a nice long sleep. Before dozing off, he took one last look at Amy's business card.

It had been a long night.

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END OF CHAPTER 9

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Next: An explorer.