---------------------------ACT 2----------------------------
THE CLOWN
Do you know what is similar between a child hiding behind a door and a person standing in before you?
That you can't see either one's face unless you let them open the door.
Someone once asked me what the most interesting way to make money was.
I answered that the one who impersonate a clown is the most interesting way person can choose.
He asked why?
...
In the 4th district of the kingdom, at the centre of a fair, a man stood.
A big red smile, white face and blue circles around eyes.
A shirt made of mirror silk, reflecting the customer's faces in it.
A three bell-hat, a coat made from blue-red bark of a tree. Baggy jeans and yellow-white tip curled shoes. Flowing silk at wrists and crimson gloves, with balloons in one hand.
An existence who always thought of making others smile but never himself.
A big red smile, was to please others, the mask of a fool.
Caesar Nival, was such an existence. A tragedy born to protect smiles. His sun never sets and night never falls.
He hadn't known how to make a person smile, yet his presence was the reason for hundreds of smiles.
He stood there, strings tied to his hands, as children came to play with him. He gave them balloons, showed them tricks, puppet shows, and a smile.
He asked himself only one question. When will it end? When will he find his 'smile'.
Today ten kids came, he showed them a small puppet show where the puppets were making jokes at each other. He gave them balloons.
Some kids took the balloons and left. Others showed gratitude: 'Thanks Mr. Clown, Mr. Puppet-master, Mr. Magician."
He was called by such names. And he sent them off to their homes with a smile. "Let's meet again. Bye bye." He waves his hands.
But one girl stayed there, looking at the wooden horse toy, laying in a corner with eyes sparkling with amazement.
"Do you like it?" Caesar bowed to her level and asked with a smile.
She nodded with enthusiasm.
He plucked a rose from a bush behind him and removed it's thorns. Carefully, placed over her ear.
"Here, our special guest. This is a gift to you from this clown."
He showed her the horse moved with strings, a small act of puppet with a horse and a prince. Her eyes illuminated with the enlightening joy of first experience. Her expressions were more seraphic than the clown could ever imagine.
She showed more emotion than the clown ever could. After the show, she clapped, he mirrored her. For the first time a butterfly fluttered in Caser's stomach.
He took a balloon, matching of her golden attire. He extended an arm toward her as she spoke.
"What's your name Mister?" She looked at the dress of him, every patch, every colour.
"I am Mr. Clown, Mr. Fo-" His words stopped as he saw her, arms on waist. A pouted face.
"I mean your real name." She recited. He was stunned for a moment in eternity. He recalled his name, his smile shortened slowly as lips of a normal person.
"I am.." He backed his hand with the yellow balloon and raised his other hand toward her. With all the other balloons.
She was about to grab the balloons.. "...!?" A name was shouted but frozen in the moment the clown couldn't hear it. Her hand was pulled by some royal knights, he took time but understood the gravity of situation and backed off.
The princess of this kingdom. She was escorted back to the castle. For the first time, the clown wasn't smiling. But Caesar was.
...
He asked why. Why does a clown catch my interest?
I answered: a clown can be anyone— a magician, a knave, a fool or a puppeteer. A magician who tricks himself, a knave who fools himself, a fool who smiles without smiling and a puppeteer who strings himself.
But. I added.
But what? he asked.
A clown can never be himself, the moment a clown's mask is washed away the crowd thickens, everyone comes for a show but barely anyone stays to see the face.
.....
Caesar stretched his hand towards the sun dipping down the horizon. Thinking of the little soul that ignited a flame in him again.
If he had tried to stop them, maybe he could talk a bit more. Maybe his name had been worn on her lips. Maybe, finally, after all the emptiness. He should have touched the sun, not fearing to be burnt by it.
He wanted to give her the balloons she yearned in front of him. The sun never sets in a clown's life.
He took his stick and walked, towards the palace.