Clown Shop: Through the Cellardoor

I wish I didn't know who was here before me, but that's all I can really think about now that I'm here. The paint on the wall to my right is bulging out, as if the inner workings of the house were suffering from an aneurysm. It just needs time. Less time.

"Well, that's your bed there."

Naturally, I had figured that out before he mentioned anything, but I nod my head glumly while I continue gazing at it anyway. I've never seen a bed frame like this one before; it's like a sandbox, but in the place of sand is a sagging mattress.

"Thanks. Not much room under there for my suitcase, is there?"

Taking a seat across from me on his own sagging bedbox, he replies, "Probably not, but there are a few drawers in the closet that slide under there without much problem. But only near the foot and head of the bed."

"Okay."

Some time passes as I consider what I'm going to do to clean this place up. The floor could use sweeping. Moving the beds to be parallel instead of perpendicular would create more floor space. 

Continuing my thoughts out loud, I turn to Joe, "Have you ever thought about moving the table toward the window?"

"No, but we can if you want to. I don't really care either way."

"And we have a broom?"

"Yeah, at the top of the staircase." 

"And it's in reasonable condition? Is there a dust pan?"

"Uh, yeah. I think so."

"Good."

As I turn back toward the window, Joe anxiously interjects before I can continue, "So, do you want to see the rest of the place?"

"Now, be careful whenever you go up or down the stairs in your socks. I've fallen a few more times than I want to admit."

All of the swirling stairs have been painted in a thick blue lacquer which must make them as slick as ice at the right angle.

"I can see why. It's amazing what kind of vertical tunnels can pass for staircases around here."
"Seriously, man. This is ridiculous."

As he steps into the narrow hallway below, Joe proudly announces, "Welcome to the infamous clown shop! Home sweet home!"
Crouching on the bottom step to avoid hitting my head, I try to look up and down the hall approvingly.
"By the way, if you lift the step that you're standing on, you'll find the entrance to the cellar."

"A cellar? Is there anything down there?" I ask while spotting the hinges hidden in a crease right behind my heels.

"I don't know. I've never gone down there."

"Really? Well let's check it out!"

Down on our knees right at the precipice of the stairway's entrance, we slowly pry open the cellar door.

Looking over hesitantly at me, Joe mentions how dark it is down there.

"Yeah, I can't see down there at all either. Hey, Joe, did you know that a famous linguist once said that 'cellardoor' is the most beautiful word in the English language?"

"Really? Who said that?"

"Just some linguist. I forget exactly who."

"But is cellardoor even one word? I thought it was two." 

"Eh, I don't really know. So are you going down there first or am I?"

"You still want to go down there?"

"Sure. I bet there's a light switch nearby."

Swinging my right foot over the threshold and into the darkness, I have to wonder about cellars in this country. I thought it was as good as impossible to have a cellar around here.

"You see a switch yet?"

"I don't see anything, and these walls are damp."

"Damp? Are the walls stone?"

"No. More like old brick from the feel of it, but I'm not really certain."

"Dallin, what about the cell phone? Just use that as a flashlight."

The screen of the cell phone illuminates the walls of the cellar before me. 

Joe's voice echoes down from the top of the stairs, "What do you see?"

"Nothing much. Just a few shelves with what looks like canned fruit."

"Canned fruit? Who does that anymore?"

"No one around here, I would have thought. There's a lot of dust on the jars."

Stepping onto the landing, my foot suddenly becomes soaked. Recoiling, I nearly fall over before grabbing the nearest shelf.

"Yuck! And there are a few inches of water down here too! Forget this, there's nothing down here anyway."

"Whatever you say, man. I'm not coming down there."

Climbing back out into the hallway, Joe asks me what I want to see next: the prop room, the costumes, the dressing room, or our kitchen and bathroom near the back.

"Let's go ahead and start with the props."

"A wise choice, my friend."