A Fear of Clowns (The Greasepaint Chronicals) (28 page)

Jay blinked.

"Can it be brought in for, say, three thousand
dollars?"

Everyone looked at the girl, who shut down then, for a bit,
then she nodded slowly, as if wondering what would happen next.

"Almost exactly that."

So, that would explain things there. The why of it. A mother
that died, and the desire to settle things. Not legally perhaps, but taken care
of. Probably with more than a bit of desperation involved. It also explained
why Felicity had taken Max up on his offer. It wasn't just that she needed a
job, to save her career, but that she was struggling to protect her family from
a mountain of debt.

He didn't know if everyone understood it all, but he did.

"I can swing that, I think. It would help. Thank you.
We... We need to get ready to open. Max, can you introduce people tonight? I...
I'm going to work up something new. Joey the Hobo Clown is retired. One of the
others can take his place. Or something better."

The chubby man didn't get it, but he was savvy enough to
know that sometimes you didn't ask.

"Do you need... I can handle things, for a while."
He was somber, and glanced at Alex, but only for a half second.

"No, thanks. I just need to sleep soon. I've been up too
long. I guess I should explain it all. I don't really want to."

Jason did it anyway. Not graphically, perhaps, but without
hedging either. He told them about what had happened, which had enough tears
falling from everyone that a few people were going to have to go and redo
makeup. When it was over Rhonda ran over to him, and held him for a long time.

"My God, that's awful! What can I do? How can I
help?"

There wasn't much that anyone could do, was there? Some
things just had to be gotten through. Understanding why it had happened, well,
it wouldn't help anyone right then. Later maybe, when they tried to understand
it.

"Go and put on a great show? I'll be fine. Thanks
everyone. I'll be around in the morning. Right now... Just... Thank you all."
No one tried to stop him as he left.

Carlos and Wendy came along, with Alex.

There was going to be a lot to do, he knew. They needed a
house, or at least a tiny and affordable apartment. That was something to look
into the next day. Maybe the one after that. It would be hard to do. So were
the arrangements for Lynn. Alex needed that to be done. It was her mother. No
matter what had happened, or how he felt about it all, that was the real point.
He'd stand with her and make certain that Carl and Lynn both got the send off
that would leave his daughter feeling okay about it, later in life. Not the one
they deserved, perhaps, but the one that was needed for the living. The man had
a wife and family, and they didn't deserve to be hurt either. Jay didn't know
what to do about them, but knew that it would probably end up being hard on
him. Who else did they have left to blame?

Then, well, what else was left?

Hugging the girl as they all headed to his room, one arm
over her shoulder, he knew the answer. What was left was life. The most
important thing was that he hold her close and make sure she grew up to be a
good person. It was going to be hard, with all of this hanging over her. Her
real parents being killed by her blood brother. All of them psychopaths like
they were. She wasn't though, and as a normal person, there would be guilt to
deal with. Even if it wasn't her fault in any way. Fear too. She'd end up
asking herself if she were like them. Tainted and evil, unable to control
herself in the long run. Manipulative and emotionless inside. The only thing
that Jason could do for her was make certain she knew it wasn't true, telling
her a thousand times, and showing her that she was a good person, and loved.

Carlos and Wendy were close behind them, and a small hand
touched his arm at the door, so he turned, to find the man looking up at him.
It was a strange thing, he realized, if not for the first time. Carlos was
small, but the biggest man he knew at the same time. At least in any way that
really mattered.

"We'll leave you here. We'll be around in the morning,
early. Don't worry, we'll make sure everything gets done." He patted his
arm, as if to offer condolences.

Then he did the same with Alexis, who passed out hugs to both
of the others. They were, in a strange way, family after all.

All he had. Except that, really, it was also all he needed.

That was the answer to his own why, wasn't it? Nodding, he
went in and got ready for bed, wondering what to do with his daughter. Well, a
night on the floor wouldn't kill him.

That they were together was the important part. It was a
thing that he should have remembered a lot earlier than he had. Now, at least,
he could do something about it.

In the morning, they could get a start on their new life.

Together.

P.S. Power writes for a living,
and is one of the most productive new names in writing. In fact, so much so
that some confused people think he is a team of people, or, in a few cases, an
advanced algorithmically based artificial intelligence system.

The truth is much simpler. He does
his own work, and as far as anyone can tell, is just like you and me. Only, you
know, not as good looking.

What he does do is live in an
isolated cabin, far away from society, as a hermit. It's a monk-like existence
filled with meditation and fasting, as he attempts to work out the best way to
entertain you. If you'd like to know more about him, or dun him with requests
for new work, he has a web-site:
pspowerbooks.com

If on the other hand, you need to
get in touch with him for more personal reasons, (movie deals, collaborations,
sexual proposals, death threats, spiritual advice, technological design
work...) please feel free to mark that clearly and write him at:
[email protected]

That's about it. If you want to
know more, please head to the web-site. Most of the books coming out in the
next year are planned to be Fantasy/Sci-Fi, but that bit about lobbying for
something else wasn't a joke. If you'd like the next book in this series to be
moved forward, please mention that! He looks forward to hearing from you.

(He also wrote this in third
person, which is just weird, don't you think? That's an attempt to fool you
into thinking he has friends. Being a hermit must be lonely...)

Thanks!