A Fear of Clowns (The Greasepaint Chronicals) (13 page)

BOOK: A Fear of Clowns (The Greasepaint Chronicals)
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"I can, Howard. I was always
intending to pay you back, anyway. I'll have the funds sent over tonight."

"Sure. Sure. See that you
do. Now, let's enjoy our meal, before you get out of my place and never come
back." It wasn't said politely, but he did let them eat. Jay had to run
out halfway through, but then he had a job to do, and that came first.

When the meal was over Greg
escorted Mr. Hammer and Ginger out. Not touching them, and not calling for
armed backup, but still clearly making certain they didn't have a chance to
palm the silver or do anything as they left.

Carlos, Max and Wendy stood up,
so Jay started too, only to have Moretti put a hand on his arm.

"A moment, Joey?" It
didn't sound hard, but Carlos looked at him, seeming a little worried.

Jay just sat back down. It was
probably him being fired, but if the man left the girl in place, that was good
enough. Hopefully he'd get paid for the work he'd done already. Jason was, like
it or not, closer to being ready for that kind of thing, having lived it for years.

The older man waited for the rest
to take off, then turned to him, regarding him silently for a while.

"Michelson tells me that
you're doing good work. In fact he hinted that you kept this from turning into
a shit storm. Keep that up. We have room here for a guy that isn't so tied in
to the rules that he can't find a bit of wiggle room, now and then. Most of the
strip does. Especially one that's smart and straight." The man made a face,
and then shook his head. "Damned political correctness. I mean a straight
shooter. Someone honest. I don't care if you want men or not. Though the way
you stood up for little Felicity Maine there shows different, eh?" His
look was knowing, and a bit smarmy.

"She reminds me of my
daughter... Which is a long story that I don't want to talk about. It isn't
like that though. If she does what she says she has planned, she gets a chance.
If not... Well, there's a lot riding on her doing that, isn't there? She'll
pull through."

"Heh, I bet she will. I just
wanted to give you my card. I might have some business for you, later. For some
friends of mine that would rather not have the cops involved, but need to see
things handled properly. That good for you? Work like this." He waved at
the room, indicating the stuff with Hammer and his family, not the clown get
up. "We'll be in touch." Then he stood too, meaning it was time to
go. He didn't explain anything more than that, and all Jay could hope was that
he didn't mean something dealing with the mob.

There were things that he didn't want
for his life, and while solving a mystery, even an easy one, was fun, it wasn't
exactly his career. Teaching had its own rewards, after all. A sense of
accomplishment, for one thing. Molding young minds from television filled mush
into slightly less shapeless things. It had been years since he'd done that,
but it had always been the best part of the job. It made grading all those
horrible and factually spotty papers worth it. Nearly, as long as he adjusted
for the fact that some of the kids really did go on to become useful members of
society.

The next day was free of
controversy, and the audience was pleased to have them there, it seemed. It was
the Thursday night crowd, which meant bigger than what he'd seen so far. The
weekend would be even bigger, he thought. It felt a bit daunting, but he could
handle it. Especially since they'd managed to hire three new acts already.
People wanted the work, once they heard about things being open. It just took a
bit of time.

All he needed to do was MC the
nightly show and work the floor during the day on Saturday and Sunday. Felicity
had those early shifts with him, since it was part of what she'd been hired to
do. Penance for having a crooked family. They dressed her up as a fairy
princess, complete with wings, for that part.

Max took him aside after the last
show, and patted him on the arm, not even seeming pissed about being punched.
That probably had a lot to do with the fact that Jay was too skinny to really
hurt anyone, and not in great shape. His life hadn't included a lot of strenuous
workouts for instance. He needed to start. If nothing else, the fact that food
was more available there might lead to him gain weight. If he had a choice,
then he wanted to put it on in muscle. Fill out a bit, in a good way.

"I know I said that you get
three days off a week, but I sort of need you for now. I don't suppose you'd be
willing to work with me? If it makes you feel any better, I can't take any time
myself." He actually sounded worried about it. Carlos and Wendy had their
normal gig to be at the next day, and needed supplies for it, so had taken off
directly after their last set. Billy and Rhonda's crew were off too, which
meant a completely raw group coming in, with just Max and him to guide them
into place. At least this time they'd planned a practice first.

"Not a problem. It's what
you hired me for."

"Yeah. Um, about the other
day, you know..." He looked away, his face disgusted. Almost angry at the
edges.

Jason shrugged, "you mean
when I hit you, saving you from a lawsuit? You want to
thank
me, right?
I understand. No need. I fully expect you to do the same if I ever get that out
of line too." There was a tiny bit of over acting in the words, and he
smiled, as if pretending it wasn't a joke.

There was a strange and befuddled
look for a bit, and then the Max cleared his throat.

"No shit. I didn't mean
that
.
That's just part of being on the crew. We look out for each other, even if it
doesn't seem like it at the moment. Just like how I'd slap a drink from your hand,
even if it pissed you off. No hard feelings, it had to be done. Michelson would
have had me canned, if you and Carlos hadn't already handled things like you
did, just to kill a potential lawsuit. I know that. He flat out told me, just
to make sure, like I didn't get that already? Lucky for me he used to be a
Marine and already has a concept of that sorta thing. No, I meant with me
giving Felicity one of your sets like that. I was a bit upset... I shouldn't
have done that. Sorry."

Jason nodded, his face not
turning into a smile. In show biz circles that was the kind of thing that could
lead to hard feelings, he knew. A bit of petty backstabbing and undermining
could go a long way, and grudges, despite what Max had just said, were held,
more often than not. People weren't perfect that way.
Especially
show
people.

"I'll live. She's got a good
act, and I think the audience likes the extra variety. I'm in though. Let's get
together and go over the weekend stuff, early tomorrow?"

"Great, ten o'clock, in my
office?"

"I'll be there."

The next week went an awful lot
like he would have expected if Jay had considered it all first. What with the
new acts having problems, most of which were just timing issues, because every
change in life had that kind of thing, or personality conflicts that needed to
be smoothed over. One of them, part of a juggling act, showed up drunk on
Saturday, which meant that Joey had to go on in their place. He was too sloshed
to be throwing fire and knives around, and everyone knew it, except the man
himself. That didn't go over well, but Max didn't fire them for it, just
calling the man out for not being ready to work. He even repeated what he'd
said about performers being there for each other, if only to Jay. It was like
he wanted to really make sure he got it.

The guy, Steve, did manage to
hold things together the next day, so his wife and brother weren't left without
a job because of him. The other problem there was that she, Sandra, was
sleeping with the other guy too, and not in an agreed upon fashion. They didn't
have some kind of weird three person marriage. It was just cheating.
That
was something that could blow up on them, but wasn't his business. As long as
it didn't affect the show. It left him feeling edgy and upset anyway, being too
close to some of the things that he'd dealt with in life. At least Carl hadn't
been his brother. Poor Steve.

The days were all different, but
a pattern emerged, with him hitting the main floor to meet and greet early each
day, dressed in various bright costumes that tended to both draw the eye and
leave people feeling a bit wary of him at the same time, and then introducing
people for the evening shows, taking one half hour set every other night. It
meant working up new material, since repeating himself seemed like cheating,
even if almost everyone else did it.

It wasn't until a full two weeks
later that he finally got some time off. Max felt like things were stable
enough, and wanted to get some time himself, eventually, which he could do now
that he had Jay. He sent his employee first, passing over a nice fat envelope
before he left. Actually it was pretty thin, having a check in it, but the
thing was for enough money that he could afford to move, and even survive for a
few months, if he wasn't picky about his new digs. Things were finally looking
up.

His little bug, which had been
sitting for weeks on end, never moving at all, needed to be jumped before it
would start. He took that in stride, and decided to actually splurge and have a
mechanic look at it, before he went back to see Carlos and Wendy. It needed it
and spending a few hundred dollars now would beat being stuck in the desert,
halfway home.

To his old home, he hoped. Not
that he wanted to leave his safety net behind. It was time though. Time for him
to rejoin the adult world of the employed and sensible.

He picked a small shop that was
the first one he passed. There were no glowing signs or shiny anything, but
that left him feeling better about it. If they weren't cheating people, they
might not have extra funds for things like that.

The mechanic seemed quiet, and
understood what he wanted, suggesting new tires first, then putting the whole
thing on the lift. The belts needed to be done, but they had all of that, or
could get it for him in town, inside about an hour. It wasn't until the man
crawled underneath that his tone changed.

 "Um... You might want to
take a look at this." Mike, which is what his shirt claimed his name was,
scooted over on his roller board, as Jay got down to look where he pointed.

At first, expecting it to be some
form of bee hive or wasp nest, or even a snake, he didn't recognize what the
man meant. Until he pointed directly at it. The thing was small, about the size
of a pack of playing cards, and gray. It had a single antenna sticking out of
it too. All in rubber coated black.

"A tracking device?"
Jason knew he sounded incredulous.

"Looks like. What did you
do?"

Jason knew the answer, after a
fashion. He'd married the wrong woman, that's what he'd done.

 

 

Jason drove back to Brickston
going the speed limit, exactly and with as little variation as he could
possibly manage. Mike had offered to pull the thing for him, since it was just
stuck on with magnets, like one of those little hidden boxes designed to carry
an extra key, in case you were prone to locking yours inside the vehicle. Jay
was tempted by the idea, but left it there. It took an act of will to do that,
and now he felt even more watched than he had before.

The deal there was simple though.
If the Sheriff's Department had done it, and had any kind of legal warrant for
it, then it was
illegal
for him to tamper with it, no doubt. If they
didn't, well, that wouldn't keep them from claiming that his doing anything to
it wasn't theft of public property. The only thing he could do was leave it in
place and just try to be good. Anything else would create more problems for
him. He guessed, once he'd moved full time, that he could mail it back, from
well outside their jurisdiction. It was tempting to just turn around right
then, since he didn't have anything he really needed left at Carlos and
Wendy's, but he'd promised them that he'd be up. They didn't know that he was
planning to pack all his things up right then.

It was a surprise. Hopefully a
good one. After all, getting rid of the bum that lived in your wood shed had to
be a relief. Okay, so it was a nice stone shed for tools, and he was a clown,
but the idea held. They didn't need him there, eating their food and messing
things up.

So he made himself drive
carefully, waiting for the lights to flash behind him. That they didn't, even
once he got passed the county line just left him feeling edgier, rather than
not. He'd been gone for
weeks
, so his friends the deputies would be
going into withdrawals by now. What with the lack of him being there to harass.
Carl too, no doubt. His favorite target and punching bag had been out of sight
for so long the man had to be feeling insecure by that time.

The trip took hours, since he was
careful, and that meant slow. The new tires left him feeling more secure, as
did the fact that all the worn belts had been replaced, just to make sure
nothing would break. The fluids had been changed as well, which meant the whole
thing had taken hours, and he was pulling in late in the day. Near dinner time.
The first thing he did was get his car settled in its spot, next to the Van, on
the paved drive. Then he went directly to the main house, and had to resist
knocking. It had been long enough that he didn't feel right, just walking in,
but Wendy had always insisted that he should, even from the very first day.

"Mom, dad... I'm home."
He drew the words out, letting his voice lilt and become playful. It got Carlos
to come from the other room, near the back. His workroom. It made some sense
that he'd be in there, given they'd all been working full time for a while.
They'd need to rebuild stock, and make sure they fixed any wear or degradation
that the tricks and props had undergone. Jay needed to do the same, though it
wasn't as pressing, since most of his things weren't perishable, like the
bottles that The Great Mantooth used. Those had gone after the first few days,
and the act had just done without that trick.

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