ClownFellas (3 page)

The veterinarian almost fell out of his seat when his cell phone rang. The clowns eyeballed him as he fumbled through his pockets to get to his phone. It was his wife.

“Damn it…”

His wife didn't know he was there. If she found out he'd agreed to do a job for Don Bozo and put himself in such a dangerous position she'd probably strangle him to death. He wanted to reject the call, but he knew if he did that she'd be suspicious. He had no other choice.

“Do you mind if I take this?” Earl asked.

The clowns didn't answer. They went back to what they were doing, stacking and shuffling cards. Earl stood from his seat and stepped away from the table.

He calmed himself, took a couple of deep breaths, and tried to sound natural as he answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Earl?” Something was wrong. Her voice was frantic. She seemed to be crying.

“Laurie?” he asked. “What's wrong?”

She didn't answer. It sounded like she dropped the phone.

“Laurie?”

“Mr. Berryman?” It was a man with a deep French accent.

“Who is this?”

“Listen carefully if you ever want to see your wife and kids again,” said the Frenchman.

It felt like a fist squeezed its way into Earl's guts as he heard the man's voice. “What's going on?”

“Calm down,” said the Frenchman. “Pretend like you're having a casual conversation with your wife. Ask her about her day.”

“What?”

“Say
How is your day?
”

Earl didn't know how to react to the man giving orders. He saw the two clowns at the table looking over at him. They could tell something was up.

“How is your day?” Earl said, trying to ignore the clowns as they eyeballed him.

“Not very convincing. You'll have to do better.”

Earl stepped farther away from the table. In a whispering tone, he asked, “What's this all about?”

“Don't speak. Just listen. I need you to do a favor for me. It's not going to be easy, but the lives of your wife and kids depend on you succeeding at this task. If you understand me, say
What are we having for dinner tonight?
”

Earl complied. He used the same tone of voice he would use while talking to Laurie. “What are we having for dinner tonight?”

“Good, you're catching on,” said the Frenchman. “Now, this is going to come as a shock to you, but you must remain calm. If you think you can handle that, say
Mmmm, blanquette de veau is my favorite.
”

“What the hell is blanquette de veau?”

“Never mind. Just say
That sounds delicious.
”

“That sounds delicious.”

“We know you're just a veterinarian there to perform an operation on the circus lion. We know this means you'll be getting very close to Don Bozo. That's why we chose you. He'll never see it coming from a guy like you.”

“You don't want me to…”

“I told you to remain calm. Don't say anything that I don't tell you to say. But you're right. We want you to kill Bozo.”

“But…but how could I…”

“Don't speak. I'll tell you how. If you follow my instructions you'll be able to succeed at this task and your family will live. In your possession you should have a large dose of sodium thiopental intended for the lion's anesthesia. If I am correct, say
What do you want for dessert? I'll pick it up on the way home.
”

“What do you want for dessert?” Earl didn't bother saying the rest.

“The first chance you get, I want you to inject Bozo with the stuff. It'll be enough to put him into a coma, then he'll die in his sleep. Use your phone to take a picture of his body and send it to me. Then figure a way out of there. If you understand, say
I'll see you tonight.
”

Earl didn't say it.

“Say
I'll see you tonight.
”

Earl looked behind him. Captain Spotty was leading a group of three clowns into the auditorium toward him. He wasn't sure if any of them was the boss.

“I'll see you tonight,” Earl said.

“When we get the picture, we'll let your family go,” said the Frenchman. “You have one hour. Say
I love you.
”

“I love you.”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Berryman. I really am. If we were able to get close enough to Don Bozo we would have done it ourselves. But he's just too well protected. It's in your hands now. Remember, if you ever want to see your wife and children again, Don Bozo has to die.”

Earl watched the clowns as they came toward him. None of the guys with Spotty were the boss. They were the boss's bodyguards. Large clowns the size of bodybuilders, armed with .38s and caramel apples. Even if Earl succeeded in killing Bozo, there was no way he was getting out of there alive. The boss's men would take him down before he got ten feet to the door. He was beyond fucked.

The Frenchman said, “Say
Good-bye.
”

“Good-bye,” he said, but the Frenchman was already gone. Earl was on his own.

Earl's hands shook as he returned his phone to his pocket. His wife, his daughters, they were being held captive at gunpoint, their lives riding on him succeeding at something he couldn't possibly accomplish. He wondered what was going through their heads at that very moment. Were they scared? Confused? Was his wife keeping their daughters calm or was she heightening their anxiety? One thing was for sure, if they all made it out of there alive Laurie was going to be pissed. That woman was not someone you ever wanted to see pissed.

But strangely enough, the thought of how angry his wife would be only made Earl smile. He had no idea why, but he liked her when she was angry. It was how he fell in love with her in the first place.

Back when he was in grad school, working toward a degree in wildlife medicine, he had a part-time job making corned beef sandwiches at a bagel shop and deli. The waiter kept moaning about this girl who wouldn't stop yelling at him.

“First, she's pissed that we're out of lox and whitefish salad. Then she's pissed that we don't take credit cards. She complains about the smell. Then she demands to switch tables because the one she was at was supposedly covered in poppy seeds and cream cheese, but it looked spotless to me. I'm telling you, the girl's a grade-A bitch.” Then the waiter dropped everything to go out back and smoke a cigarette even though it wasn't his break time.

Earl nearly dropped the pastrami on the floor when a woman walked up behind him and said, “Where's that lazy waiter with my food? I've been waiting out there for fifteen minutes!”

When he turned around, he saw a woman who did not match her grating voice. She had short, curly hair tucked behind horn-rimmed glasses, and dark-blue eyes he could swim inside.

Earl couldn't believe the nerve of the woman. “What are you doing back here? You're not allowed in the kitchen.”

“I'm going to be late getting back to work. I've never had to wait this long for lunch in my life.”

Earl wasn't used to dealing with customers. He worked in the kitchen for a reason. “It's busy at this time of day. We're short-staffed.”

“Save your excuses. Is my food ready yet or not?”

Earl looked at his orders on deck. “Which one is yours?”

She walked right up to him and pointed at the ingredients on his sandwich assembly line. “I had the tuna salad on a jalapeño bagel. How hard is that? It should have taken you five minutes tops.”

Earl hadn't even started on her bagel yet. “I've got four orders to do before yours. I haven't gotten to it yet.”

“Are you kidding me? I don't have time for that. Give me the soup for free. What kind of soup do you have?”

“It's cabbage borscht.”

“Give me some of that and some of the house-made pickles.”

“I don't have the authority to do that. Just go back to your seat. You're slowing me down.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me? What's your name? I'm going to get you fired for talking to me like that.”

“It's Earl. And go ahead and get me fired. I don't like this job anyway.”

“Earl? What kind of name is
Earl
?”

“Seriously, go back to your seat. You're not allowed back here.”

“Give me the soup and I'll leave.”

“Fine, take the soup,” Earl said.

He poured her a bowl of soup and scooped some pickles onto a plate.

“And an éclair. I like those éclairs.”

“Whatever you want.” He didn't question it. He pulled an éclair out of the case and gave it to her.

“Thanks,
Earl,
” she said. “At least now I'll get to eat something before I go back to work. I'll take the sandwich to go when it's ready.”

Earl was furious. He rolled his eyes and went back to making sandwiches. She was even worse than the waiter said she was.

But then something happened. Before the girl left, she put something in his back pocket. Earl thought it might've been payment for the food she asked for, but he had no idea why she'd pay for something after demanding to get it for free. When he pulled out the slip of paper, he saw her name and phone written on it. She wanted him to call her.

“Are you serious?” he said, looking back. But the woman was gone. Through the whole unpleasant experience, he had no idea she'd been flirting with him.

At first, he didn't want to call her. The girl seemed like trouble. Who'd ever want to date somebody like that? But he admitted to himself that he did find her attractive and admired her audacity. So he gave her a call and they went out on a date. Two years later they were married.

As Earl thought back on his life with Laurie, all those times she got mad at him for inconsequential matters or embarrassed him when she was angry in public, he just laughed out loud. Then tears rolled down his cheeks. No matter how annoying she was to other people who had the misfortune of meeting her, Earl absolutely loved that woman with all his heart.

“What the hell's wrong with you?” Captain Spotty said when he saw the vet's face.

“Nothing's wrong,” Earl said.

Then he wiped his tears away. He couldn't handle the thought of anything happening to his wife and children.

The three bodyguard clowns searched Earl's medical case and then patted him down. It showed the boss was thorough. Even with an ordinary guy like Earl, he couldn't be too careful.

“Let's go,” said Captain Spotty, leading Earl into the back. The three guards followed.

Earl tried to keep his hand from shaking as he carried his case down the hall. He had no idea how he was going to give a lethal injection to the boss clown with these goons surrounding him.

“Be on your best behavior,” Spotty said. “The boss is in a foul mood today.”

Earl nodded.

Spotty saw his lips trembling. “And stop being so antsy. You look like a rat wearing a wire. Relax. You'll do fine.”

But Earl couldn't help it. By the time he entered the boss's office and saw the big man in person, the vet's neck was dripping with sweat. One look at him and the boss was immediately displeased.

“This is the guy who's supposed to heal my darling Happytooth? This sorry excuse for a prick?”

Don Bozo was an intimidating figure with his keg-sized belly, bushy fire-red eyebrows, and a Dominican cigar hanging out of his bulldoglike jowls. He sat behind his desk, eating sausages with a serving fork. He didn't bother to remove his cigar as he ate.

“You wanted the best doc at the zoo,” Spotty said. “They said he's the best.”

“He ain't even a clown,” said the boss. “How's a vanilla vet going to save a clown's lion?”

“There ain't no clown vets at the Bronx Zoo,” Spotty said. “There ain't no clown vets anywhere for that matter.”

“Well, I don't trust him.” Don Bozo shoved the rest of the plate of sausages down his gullet. “The man makes me nervous.”

Spotty saw that Earl Berryman was shaking in his boots, even worse than before. He whispered into his ear, “I told you to relax. Be a man for cryin' out loud.”

Earl wiped the sweat from his brow and tried to suck it up.

Bozo rolled his eyes. “Christ, the putz can't even stand up straight. How's he going to hold a scalpel while he's shaking like that?”

“He says he's coulrophobic,” Spotty said.

“Callya what?”

“Coulrophobic. You know, he's scared of clowns.”

The boss's bushy eyebrows shot up to the top of his thick white forehead. “Then what the hell is he doing in Little Bigtop? Get rid of him. Come back with a doctor who's got some balls.”

Captain Spotty looked at Earl, then back at the boss. He shrugged and grabbed the vet by the elbow. “If you say so. Come on, Doc. You blew it.”

As Spotty escorted him toward the door, Earl panicked.

“Wait,” Earl yelled, shoving away from the shabby clown. “You've got to let me do it.”

The boss nearly choked on his sausages when the vet charged toward his desk. The large clowns grabbed him. “Is this guy for real? Who's he think he is coming at me like that?”

“I'm sorry, but I need this job,” Earl said, putting his finger in the boss's face. “And you're not going to find anyone in the whole state with half as much surgical experience as I have with large felines. You'd have to fly in somebody from Florida. And by then, it might be too late.”

Bozo spit his cigar at the vet. “Get your finger out of my face before you lose it, shrimp.”

Earl lowered his hand but didn't stand down.

Spotty came forward. “He's already here, boss. You might as well have him take a look at Happytooth. See how long she has.”

Bozo leaned back, staring the vet in the eyes. “Well, I guess the vanilla's got more balls than I thought.”

“So can I do my job or what?” Earl asked.

The boss stood up from his seat. His massive belly flipped over the empty plate and spilled gravy all over the desk. “Fine, we'll give him a shot.”

Earl let out a sigh and nearly fell to his knees. He couldn't believe he'd actually gone through with that.

Bozo wobbled toward the door. “Come with me.”