The Twinning Verse Two

He was a boy of only fifteen, but he felt much, much older. Average build, light black hair, and very common features; simply by looking at him, observers would not think the boy held special talents of any sort. They would be wrong. The creature looking at the boy currently wore a tattered vest over a multicolored striped shirt. He had greasy black hair that was slicked back and resembled the grey and slippery skin of a wet seal. The creature’s other head sported white hair, fluffy and light, jutting in all directions like rogue clouds. “Look at ‘dat,” said the greasy head. “Looks lak a boy,” said the fluffy head back to the adjoined greasy head. “Ya, ya, you be right. Passed out he is,” said the greasy head. The creature stood only five feet tall. It had two heads sprouting from a normal looking body, each complete with its own neck, silhouetted against the sky like a grotesque V. “What we gunna do?” asked the fluffy head. “I dunno,” said the greasy one in response. The heads looked at each other for moment in thought, and then the fluffy head spoke. “Shuu we get de Boss?” A slight flash of fear danced across the eyes of the greasy head, but only for a moment. He thought about this idea, then said, “I geese so.” Both heads nodded and walked away from the motionless boy on the ground. Michael did not hear any of this conversation. Passing through the portal in Couplet Canyon had left the boy unconscious. His mind was filled with visions of bumblebees, stingers, hot air balloons, and silver coins; shimmering and falling in the sunlight. What finally woke Michael was the feeling of being lifted up, like someone was carrying him. Sleepily he opened his eyes, and his lids rose very slowly. The last thing he remembered was running, carefree, toward the circus tents. How had he ended up passed out here? He did not know the answer to this question; his mind was a sea of drifting flotsam. The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was awful. Michael thought it smelled like manure and stale popcorn. The second thing he noticed was the apparatus being used to carry him; a large net slung over the shoulder of a very large man. “Hey, what are you doing?” This was the first thing that popped into Michael’s head and the words spilled out too quickly. The large man ignored him. “Hey you! Let me out of this net!” Michael spoke more loudly this time, trying to get the man's attention. Nothing. Michael began to squirm and wriggle, hoping to get the man’s attention any way he could. It worked. “You quiet down in dere,” said the man with an accent Michael seemed to recognize. “No I won’t! Let me out!” “No sonny, you mine now. Finders is keepers you know hehehe.” “What! Let me go!” Now Michael writhed about frantically, pulling at the net, turning his body in an attempt to make the man drop his load. “Stop de squirming little boy!” said the man and with his other hand smacked Michal on the head quite hard. “Oww!” said Michael. The blow hurt very much. He stopped moving. “Fine,” said Michael, “then where are we going?” “Haha, we are going to The Circus!” “The circus?” questioned Michael. “A circus in New York City? “Hmmm, what is dis, New York City?”