Excerpt: Half Delicious

Chell remembered the first time the Theatre Faces spoke to him.

He had been only a small child at the time, unable to wander around by himself without parental supervision. The city could be a dangerous place, his father told him, as all cities could be. He would have to grow a little bit more, before he could venture out on his own.

And so the Theatre Faces had never spoken to him, and Chell had never been close enough to hear them speak. In the city's Central Square, where the short and sturdy monument resided, he had only glimpsed the Faces, both Happy and Sad, from a comfortable distance. They bickered with each other constantly, and talked frequently with passers by.

They liked to talk, the Theatre Faces. That much Chell did know.

He watched them often, their white marble mouths moving as fluidly as human skin, as real as any person he had ever met. One of them always joyous and content, the other in a constant state of misery, it seemed. They were joined together, at the side of the head, and an almost constant shadow resided over one side of each face.

Chell often tried to get nearer to them, when he was in the Central Square. But his mother always caught on before he could get too close. She was well aware of his fascination with the Faces, and kept a sharp eye on his movements when they passed through. The Faces were respected throughout the city. After all, they stood for everything the city represented. But they were too unpredictable, too precarious, for such a small boy to deal with. Chell's parents kept him from the Theatre Faces, intending to wait until they felt he was old enough to understand.

But things did not go as planned, as they very rarely do. And when passing through the Square, shortly after Chell's seventh birthday, he finally found the opportunity he'd been looking for.

His mother had been distracted by a passing fan. She was one of the more recognised stage performers in the area, and always loved the admiration of people who came to her shows. As soon as the young woman approached her, tentatively, her attention was focused solely on her, and the slip of paper and pen clasped in her small hands.

Chell, momentarily forgotten but unbothered by the lack of attention, looked around. As always, in the centre of the square stood the monument, with the Theatre Faces perched securely on the top. They were alone at that moment, and with no one close enough to talk to, they had returned to talking to each other, faces turned awkwardly inwards in an attempt to see each other better. And then, Happy Face turned slightly, as if trying to gesture with imaginary, non existant hands, and caught sight of him staring. He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot as she watched him, and then looked away nervously when Sad Face turned to see what had caught his companion's attention. He looked back up quickly, unwilling to miss anything they might do, and then slowly, Happy Face smiled at him.

He smiled back.

He looked over at his mother, who was still talking to the fan and completely oblivious to everything else going on around her. She normally kept a firm grip on his hand when they were walking, but had released him to sign the slip of paper the young woman had handed to her. They were currently engrossed in conversation. Chell experimentally moved a few steps away from her, seeing if she would notice. When she didn't, he smiled again and started to edge away from her even more, his little legs moving as quickly and as quietly as possible.

When he was sure he'd gotten away with it, he turned back to the Theatre Faces, which were still watching him. He was right in front of them now, looking up at their marble, mask like eyes and mouths. They seemed much taller from close up. Feeling a little nervous then, he shuffled forwards, folding his arms in front of him in a vaguely self protecting gesture.

"Hi," he said quietly, looking up at them.

Happy Face smiled broadly at him. "Hello, little one. What brings you over here?" Her voice was light and musical.

"Yes, what do you want?" asked Sad Face, his voice deep and woeful by comparison.

Chell fidgeted nervously. "I always see you," he said. "But mama doesn't let come near. She says I'm too young."

Sad Face's marble brow crinkled. "She keeps you from us? We are the reason this city exists, how dare we be ignored!"

Chell took a step back. Apparently Sad Face could get angry too, and he didn't like it.

"Technically that's not true," replied Happy Face, shifting awkwardly to get a better view of her partner. "The city was here before we were. It's the passion, the talent of the theatre that made us what we are."

"That," sniffed Sad Face, "is trivial nonsense. It doesn't matter whether we came first or not. We are the Theatre. We are the stages and the shows, the curtains and the props, the actors and the audience. But the parents of these young children," he said, gesturing at Chell with the side of his face, "will insist upon keeping them away from us."

"Please don't start, dear," sighed Happy Face, her smile drooping. "I know perfectly well how you feel about the matter."

"Mama says I'm too young to understand," Chell interrupted, and both Faces turned back from their argument to look at him again. He hesitated. "She says you could be dangerous."

It was the wrong thing to say. Sad face looked very angry then, and Happy Face lost her smile altogether.

"Us? Dangerous? Preposterous!" said Sad Face, his voice rising in his anger. "There is more danger in this city when the sun goes down than there will ever be when a child talks to us."

Chell's interest was peaked, despite how intimidating Sad Face was when he was angry. "What happens at night?" he asked.

Sad Face opened his mouth to reply, but Happy Face beat him to it. "Perhaps it's not a good idea to tell the child if he doesn't already know, dear."

Sad Face looked down at Chell, who tried not to fidget under the scrutiny.

"How old are you, boy?" he asked.

"Seven," Chell replied proudly.

"Well then, if you haven't been told by now then you should have. Seven is the perfect age."

Sad Face ignored the protests of Happy Face, who seemed to give up trying to argue after a few minutes. She turned to Chell with a gentle smile. Sunlight glinted off of one side of her marble mask.

"Don't let what he says frighten you. He'll probably make it sound worse than it is."

"I'm not frightened," Chell said, standing up straighter. He didn't want the Theatre Faces to think he was a scaredy cat. "What happens at night?" he asked again.

Sad Face stopped looking sad, and started to look altogether much more wicked. Clearly he liked informing people of things they weren't aware of.

"Have you ever heard noises," he began, "and turned around and seen that nothing was there?"

Chell sighed, disappointed. "Of course I have," he said, folding his arms on his chest. "Everyone does. Mama told me that the stage doesn't always go to sleep, like we do. That's why everyone hears clapping and singing sometimes, even when no one's performing."

Sad Face actually smiled. But it was a wicked, twisted kind of smile. Nothing like the warm tilt of the lips that Happy Face was so often prone too.

"That's just what happens during the day. Things are always quieter when there's sunlight. Do you ever play in the night, boy?" he asked, although probably already knew the answer.

"No," scowled Chell. This particular injustice had always rankled him. "Mama always calls me in when it gets dark."

As well as trying to escape his mother to talk to the Faces, Chell was also prone to escape attempts after dark. He liked to watch the stars. And his attempts were always thwarted by his ever watchful parents.

Sad Face smiled again, his mouth looking twisted and unnatural when melancholy was it's ordinary state.

"At night," he said, "there is much more than just simple noises, boy. You do not just hear clapping and singing. The entire stage comes alive. There are no actors or actresses, no stage hands or directors. Just the stage. And it is always very eager to capture anyone who stumbles in unannounced in the early hours of the morning." He looked carefully at Chell, lips still twisted in that unsettling grin. "And if they catch you, boy, they won't give you up in a hurry."

Chell took an almost imperceptible step back. But he frowned at Sad Face suspiciously. "How can noises stop you from getting away?"

Happy Face smiled at him gently, as if afraid she would frighten him, although her companion was far more disagreeable than she was. "There is more than just noises in the Theatres at night, my dear."

This was not a satisfactory answer for Chell. "Like what?" he asked suspiciously. He wasn't afraid. There were noises all the time. Clapping and shouting, laughing and singing, and when you turned around there was never anyone there. Noises couldn't hurt you, and Chell was far too used to them to give them a second thought anymore. He wasn't sure he believed the Theatre Faces. Maybe this was what his parents had meant, by saying that he wouldn't understand. Were they trying to trick him?

Unfortunately, he didn't get to find out. Because at that moment, just as Happy Face went to speak again, his mother noticed he was missing. The sound of his name being yelled across the square made him jump violently. And he turned panicked eyes on his mother, who was striding towards him looking angry and relieved at the same time.

She reached him far faster than he wanted her too. He couldn't even begin to think of an excuse before she was kneeling in front of him, and holding him by the shoulders.

"Chell," she scolded, and he could tell by the tone of her voice that she was really mad. He looked at the floor. "How many times have I told you to stay with me when we're out?" She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose wearily. "I can't look away from you for a second."

"Please don't blame the boy, dear," said Happy Face from behind him, and his mother looked up to see her smiling down at him. "Curiosity isn't a sin. And children are often riddled with it."

Chell's mother sniffed. "Yes, well," she said. She turned back to him again, where he was still studying the floor. "Please don't run off again Chell, you panicked me for a minute. What if you'd gone round a corner and gotten lost?"

He mumbled an apology to the floor, and his mother sighed.

"Come on then. We have to get going anyway." She turned to the Theatre Faces, who were watching the scene play out in front of them. "I'm sorry if he bothered you," she said politely, then ducked her head in a respectful goodbye, and pulled Chell away by the hand. He turned back to look at the Faces as he was dragged away, and saw Happy Face smiling cheerfully at him. Sad Face was watching him with more scrutiny, as if daring him to run back and question them again. He didn't dare try.

So there were more noises at night as well as during the day. This didn't affect Chell in the slightest. Noises could not harm you, everyone knew that. But the Theatre Faces had said that there was more than just noises, if you went inside a Theatre in the early hours of the morning. As he and his mother rounded a corner and walked out of the Central Square, Chell wondered what else could possibly go on at night time. Had they been trying to trick him, like his sister so often did?

Chell didn't know, but he did want to know if what they'd said was true.

And so he decided to find out.