The Guild of Fallen Clowns (7 page)

“Daddy,” cried one of the girls; her arms
reached out for the security of his embrace.

The father reached out to greet her hug.
“What’s this about? What happened? Is everything okay?”

The other three girls joined in. Two grabbed
onto the mother and the last one wrapped her arms around the
daughter and father. None were able to hold their composure long
enough to explain what happened.

Alan finished the monkey and handed it to
the anxious little boy, who was oblivious to the foursome’s
whimpers.

Finally catching a breath, the daughter
whimpered, “We want to go ho...home …Daddy. Please let’s go home.”
Wailing moans followed her pleading.

“What happened? Was the Haunted Labyrinth of
Mirrors too scary for you?” the father asked.

“Stop, Daddy,” she cried. “You don’t know
how scary it was in there. Please take us home.”

“Ha! I told you girls it might be too scary
for you. But no, you all insisted. What were the words you used? Oh
yeah, you said it’s kid stuff,” he said, reveling in the
moment.

“But you don’t understand, Mr. McNair. They
tried to keep us there,” one of her friends added.

The father paid no attention their
ramblings. He just enjoyed seeing the smug look washed from the
four pre-teen girls’ faces. He agreed to take them home, and as
they walked away, the four girls remained glued to the arms of the
adults.

Alan watched the group, huddled close as
they walked away.
What happened to them? Did Peepers have
anything to do with it, or were they just acting like typical
teenage girls?
He looked back at the Labyrinth, where more
groups exited, laughing and joking around with each other. All
appeared normal.

The remainder of the afternoon was mixed
with three basic types of people: those who thoroughly enjoyed
their experience in the Labyrinth, those who showed little or no
emotion at all, and those who expressed great anxiety. The only odd
thing that stood out was the fact that the groups who exited in
fear were unified in their terror. There was never one or two who
enjoyed their experience.

Alan found this to be very peculiar.

*****

At three-thirty, Alan had to leave his
carnival job. It was time to trade his Boogy costume for his pizza
delivery hat. Just before he made his way through the parking lot
to his car, a curtain of thick clouds had quickly filled the sky.
The sky grew dark as the ominous wall approached.

Most of the visitors to the carnival heeded
Mother Nature’s warning and flooded into the parking lot with him.
Everyone picked up the pace as the first heavy drops fell. By the
time he got in his car, there was a full-on downpour. He looked in
his rearview mirror and noticed his Boogy makeup melting down his
face from the cleansing rain. He made things worse by wiping away
the moisture along with samplings of color from all parts of his
face.

The rain was heavy but he didn’t have time
to wait for a break in the clouds. If he were late again, Joe would
surely fire him. More importantly, he didn’t want to let his friend
down.

Unfortunately, he didn’t anticipate the
effect poor weather would have on the hundreds of visitors at the
carnival. Vince’s was only ten minutes away, and he gave himself
plenty of time—for a normal day. However, the field was jammed with
cars all trying to exit at the same time. Alan’s buffer may not
have been enough, but he took advantage of the parking lot delay by
using the last of his cold cream to clear the colored makeup from
his face.

Bells jingled over the shop door. Alan knew
he was late and tried making his way through without drawing
attention to himself. Joe stood beside the oven; his piercing glare
stopped Alan in mid-stride. Without saying a word, he glanced at
the wall clock, and then returned his aim at Alan. He was eleven
minutes late.

Alan knew Joe was left with no other choice.
He raised his hands in surrender. Although he had a legitimate
excuse, he also knew that he’d be stoking the fire if he tried
offering it.

“I know, Joe. I’ll be in your office,” he
said as he continued through the shop. In the office, he turned
over the empty bucket, sat down, and waited.

Joe entered thirty seconds later. He closed
the door and took his seat behind the desk.

“Why are you doing this to me, Alan?” he
said. “I thought we were good. I thought you understood.”

“I’m sorry, Joe. You’re absolutely right. I
did understand, and I gave myself plenty of

time—”

“Oh no, not again. What did I tell you about
excuses, Alan? No more!”

“You’re right, Joe. I totally understand why
you have to fire me.”

“Fire you?” Joe shot back. “Who said
anything about firing you?”

“Well, I just assumed—”

“I just need to make an example of you,
Alan. You’re my best employee. I don’t want to fire you.”

Alan exhaled, and his stiff posture relaxed.
He had been sure that Joe would fire him to set an example to the
others.

“Alan, relax. The thing is we are the only
adults in this place. These kids are the future. They’re good kids,
but they need discipline. The way I see it is each of them is a
ball of dough. Their parents put all the right ingredients into the
dough, but now it’s my job—our job—to form the dough. For most of
them, this is their first job. I take that responsibility very
seriously. I know they’ll all end up leaving here thinking it was
just another stupid childhood job. And that’s okay. I just want to
be sure that we help shape them properly so they do well in
life.”

“Why don’t you have kids Joe?” Alan
asked.

“Long story, but I consider all of them—and
you—to be my kids. And
you,
are about to get a
spanking.”

“Seriously?” Alan asked.

“Yes seriously, but not literally. I do need
to punish you. It’s because of you that Jamie called in sick. My
guess is he’s at that carnival of yours.”

“Jamie called in sick?”

“Yes! And now I’m short-handed and I need to
suspend you for a few days. See what you’ve done, Alan?”

Alan didn’t completely follow Joe’s logic,
but he was relieved that he wasn’t getting fired. He didn’t think
this would be a good time to question Joe’s thought process, so he
let it go.

“Do you have to suspend me right away?”

“Well, if I don’t, it will look like I’m
going easy on you and I’ll look weak.”

“True, but this is my fault. I don’t want
you and everyone else to be upset with me for being short-handed
tonight. Why don’t you let me help through the rush, and then send
me home?”

“Okay—that might work, but I need to yell at
you in front of Nat and Alex. They’ll tell the others and everyone
will know I’m serious.”

“Sure, sure, yell at me good. That should
work,” Alan said.

“Okay, I’m gonna get up now and, uh, you
walk out first, okay?” Joe nervously maneuvered to a position that
allowed Alan to exit his office before him. Loosening up, he
appeared to be an actor preparing to go on stage, shaking out the
cobwebs and freeing his mind from the clutter in order to sell his
audience.

“Yeah, no problem.” Alan stood and opened
the door. Joe clenched his fists and rocked his head to indicate
his readiness.

“Hold on, Joe. Let me see if any customers
are in the store.”

“Oh, right. Good thinking.”

Alan peeked around the corner. It was clear
so he turned back and gave Joe a nod.

Joe yelled out, “Now get out of my office! I
don’t want to see your face until Wednesday.”

“Okay, Joe. I’m really sorry,” Alan said as
he looked to be sure their act got the attention of Natalia and
Alex. It was clear that they heard all of it.

“I don’t want to hear it! And you know
what?” Joe said. “You just put us in a bad situation, Alan. Because
of you we’re short-handed. Deliveries are piling up and I don’t
have anyone to deliver them. Are you proud of yourself, Alan? Are
you happy with the way this has affected the rest of us?”

Ouch!
Alan thought to himself. Joe
was really good at acting—a little too good.

“This is what you’re going to do,” Joe said.
“Deliver those three pizzas before your suspension starts. And
since everyone else will be working harder with you gone, I expect
you to put your tips in the tip jar.”

Ouch again
. “Okay, Joe. I guess I
deserve it for being late. I’ll see you Wednesday night.”

“That’s right. Wednesday night. And if
you’re running late, don’t bother showing up at all.”

Alan grabbed the stack of pizzas and headed
for the door. With his back pushing the door open, he saw Alex and
Natalia nervously working as they tried to stay far from the
action. Out of their view, Joe stood at the back of the shop
smiling at Alan with a two thumbs-up signal to indicate their act
was a success. Alan smirked as his body twisted around the closing
door.

*****

1116 Fisher Road. One large pepperoni pizza.
The old Cape style home was warm with life. Soft lights glowed from
every window. A scooter leaned against the perfectly trimmed
boxwood beside the porch steps. Add a thatched roof and gently
falling snowflakes and one might mistake the house for a living
Thomas Kinkade painting.

He pressed the backlit doorbell. That simple
action opened the starting gates for a small army of tiny socked
feet, led by the family’s fearless guard dog, a fifteen-pound black
and white shih tzu named Oreo. The door opened a quarter of the
way, blocked from a full opening by the rumpled area rug. Oreo and
little Bobby managed to squeeze through. Oreo threatened the
stranger with vicious growls and barking from the front end, and
his
happy to see you
tail slapping the door from his rear.
Bobby’s hands and face pressed into the glass storm door, adding to
the smudge marks from other recently welcomed visitors.

“It’s here,” Bobby called out. The rug
behind tugged away, revealing Bobby’s older siblings, Danielle and
Mitchell. Trailing close behind was Paula, their mother.

She’s still as beautiful as ever,
Alan thought as she herded the kids and Oreo away from the storm
door.

“Move, Bobby. Mitchell, grab Oreo,” Paula
commanded. “Hey, Alan, how are you?” she asked as she opened the
screen door.

“Great, Paula. Looks like you’ve got your
hands full.”

“That’s why I ordered the pizza. Dave is on
a business trip and I didn’t have time to go shopping today,” she
said as her free hand instinctively found its way to the top of
Bobby’s head, preventing him from slipping around her. Still
oblivious to her own ability to multitask, she redirected the boy
and with a nudge, artfully sent him back into the house.

Alan used one hand to transfer the pizza as
she propped the glass door open with her elbow and held out a
twenty.

Alan retrieved the cash. “Any plans to take
the family to the carnival?”

“Oh, that’s right. I saw them setting up.
I’m sure we’ll get there before it’s gone. Hey, Alan, are you still
doing the clown thing?”

“Yup, still clowning around,” he said as he
pulled crumpled bills from his pocket, found a five-dollar bill,
and attempted to give her change.

She stopped him with an open hand indicating
his tip, three dollars more than her usual.

“Wow! I remember in high school,” she said,
“every Halloween you would get on the bus dressed as a clown. Who
knew you would still be doing it in your thirties?”

“Yeah, who would have guessed?” Alan replied
in a more somber tone.

“Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s great that
you were able to find work doing something you enjoy. It’s just
that you never hear about people becoming clowns.”

“Well, it’s mostly just a part-time thing. I
do the occasional kids party, but this year I’m helping out at the
carnival.”

“Really. Do you have a card? I might be able
to help you out.”

Alan reached for his wallet and pulled out
one of his business cards. On the card there was a caricature of
his clown face with multi-colored letters spelling out
Boogy the
Clown
arched above it. His phone number and email address were
listed below. He handed the card to Paula.

“How cute! Do you do any magic tricks?”

“I can turn a balloon into a giraffe,” Alan
quipped. “Other than that, not really. Just your standard clown
tricks.”

“Don’t forget, Alan. You can also make
pizzas appear out of nowhere.”

By this point, Alan just wanted to get away.
Paula had been everyone’s crush girl in high school. He knew he’d
never been in her league, but she was always kind and nonjudgmental
toward him. Tonight, as he delivered her pizza and talked about his
other part-time job as a carnival clown, Paula’s eyes were no
longer able to hide her pity and concern for his sad life.

“I hope you all enjoy the pizza,” Alan said
as he turned and walked toward his car.

“Maybe we’ll see you at the carnival,” Paula
responded before returning inside.

*****

His next delivery was to an apartment
complex near the college. Most drivers did their best to avoid
early deliveries to the college because students are usually bad
tippers. Later in the night, after the alcohol takes effect, they
become more generous. It was early, but that didn’t matter on this
night because Joe’s ad-libbing resulted in his own generous
donation to the tip jar back at Vince’s.

He knocked on the apartment door. Inside he
heard a girl giggling and screeching in a playful manner. She
opened the door and greeted Alan with a big smile before turning
her head back. “Pizza’s here. Come pay the guy.” With that she took
the box and walked inside, leaving the door wide open with Alan
still standing outside.