ClownFellas (8 page)

It was two weeks of living and working in Little Bigtop and Earl still hadn't gotten used to being surrounded by clowns. His job was fine. He loved working with animals. He always did. It filled him with pride knowing that he was able to do good by them, give them better habitats to live in than cages in an old warehouse.

His home life, on the other hand, was a mess. Vicky hadn't said more than three words since the incident. Sarah wasn't adjusting well to her new school—it wasn't easy being the only non-clown girl at Little Bigtop High School. And Mandy, though happy and excited as ever, had already given up hope of ever seeing her mother again. It was depressing. Earl felt like he'd destroyed his family, destroyed his daughters' happiness. The only thing that would make things right is if their mother were to come back to them. But even then, Earl was worried she would come back changed. He knew it was possible she could come back psychologically damaged or addicted to laughy-gas. The road to recovery would be long and arduous, and that was if she didn't leave him and take the kids away.

At the end of a long day, Don Bozo came up to Earl with a disturbed look on his face. At that moment, Earl knew it. His fears had come true. His wife was dead.

“I'm sorry, Doc,” the boss said, putting his hand on the vet's shoulder.

Tears pooled in Earl's eyes. “You found her?”

The boss nodded and looked down. “Yeah, we found her.”

Earl didn't want to believe it. He thought for sure she would have been alive. Even if they never found her, he thought she still would've been alive somewhere, even if she was living in misery.

“So, she's dead…,” Earl said.

The boss shook his head. “No, I didn't say that. She's here.”

“What?”

“She's just not the same…”

“What do you mean not the same?”

Earl wondered what they'd done to her. His worst fears went through his head: She could be a crazed addict, she could be beaten or scarred, she could be diseased or left in a horribly malnourished state.

The boss led him out of the animal shelter toward the offices where she was being held.

“You see, the men who purchased your wife had specific tastes,” said Don Bozo. “They had no need for any human women.”

“What does that mean?”

When Don Bozo opened the door to one of his accountants' offices, Earl saw a clown sitting in the chair behind the desk.

“Who's this?” Earl asked.

“They shot her up with Happy Juice. It changed her genetic makeup.”

Earl stepped into the office and got a closer look at the clown sitting there. She had frizzy red hair and neon-green horn-rimmed glasses.

Earl's heart stopped. “Laurie?”

He hardly recognized her with that big round nose and paper-white skin. Her dark-blue eyes seemed to twirl at him.

“Hi, baby,” she said in a high-pitched, bloodcurdling clown voice. “Want to go home and blow some bubbles?”

She pulled out a bubble kit and blew bubbles at him. Then her bright-red lips curled into a deranged smile. She wasn't just a clown; she was the most frightening clown Earl had ever seen, even more horrifying than Captain Spotty. And he was married to her.

“I think it's a pretty nice improvement if you ask me,” Don Bozo said. “Of course, I can imagine how it might upset you, you being afraid of clowns and all.”

That clown wasn't his wife anymore. She was something else. Something
grotesque.
The thought of bringing that crazed clown woman into his home, into his bed, into his life…

“Are you all right, Baby?” the clown woman said as Earl fell to the floor.

She came out from behind the desk and lifted him up off the ground. When she looked him in the eyes, Earl saw a spark of her former self. Deep down inside, it was still her. She still had the same memories, the same feelings she always had. She just wasn't human anymore. Earl truly loved her. He should be able to live with that.

Rainbow-colored tears fell down the clown's cheeks, as if she heard the thoughts in his head. He wasn't able to speak, but he smiled back at her.

“I missed you so much,” she cried. Then she hugged him against her marshmallowy breasts and honked her nose against his shoulder.

As Earl kissed the new version of his wife, he realized that one day he would be cured of his clown phobia. But before it got better it was going to get a hell of a lot worse.

The phone rang at two in the morning. If he knew what was going down at that very moment, Vinnie Blue Nose would have answered. Instead, he let it go to voice mail. This was not very characteristic of the top capo of the Bozo crime family. The guy was usually the most responsible clown Don Bozo had on staff, always on call, always business-first. But he was having a very serious discussion with his wife, Samantha. She no longer wanted to be a regular human being anymore. She wanted to become a clown like her husband.

“I'm sick of being vanilla.” Samantha stood in the bedroom doorway in her black nightie, drinking cognac on the rocks. “I finally saved up enough money to buy a dose of Happy Juice. Just let me take it. I want to be a clown like you and your friends.”

Vinnie was building a house of cards so large it took up half the living room. It would be more aptly titled an airport of cards or a city of cards. He focused on the construction one card at a time, taking it so seriously that you'd think he was building a bomb.

“It's not worth the risk,” Vinnie said, carefully placing his next card on the stack.

“It's worth the risk to me. You don't see how the other wives look at me. I feel like an outcast.” Samantha stirred the ice cubes in her glass with her long fingernails.

“Who cares what they think. I don't want to lose you.”

“But the odds of it going wrong are so low.”

“One in ten isn't low in my book. You don't know how many friends of mine took that gamble and lost. I don't want that happening to you.”

“What about when we start having kids? They'll be half clowns.”

“What's wrong with half clowns?”

“You know what it's like for half clowns in Little Bigtop. They'll be treated like garbage. Just look at your friend Pinky Smiles.”

“Pinky's a good kid. I'd be proud if our children turned out anything like him.”

Water puddled in the corners of her eyes. “But everything would be so much easier if I were a clown…” She put her hand over her mouth.

Vinnie got up from the couch and went to her. “Sam, what's gotten into you?” He tucked his hands into the crooks of her waist and looked her in the eyes. “I like you just the way you are. If I wanted to marry a clown I would have married a clown.”

“I just want our life to be perfect together.”

“Come here,” Vinnie said, opening his arms around her. She fell into his embrace and pressed her face against his neck. “Our life is perfect just the way it is.” His white fingers weaved through her long black hair and he kissed her on the scalp.

When they let go of each other, Sam went to the kitchen to refresh her drink and Vinnie went back to his cards. Sam was a very sensitive girl, yet she was always embarrassed when she got emotional. It was no easy task for Vinnie to figure out when he needed to be attentive to her feelings and when to ignore them.

“That's a big one,” Sam said, pointing her drink at the mountain-sized card towers. “You're really getting good at that hobby of yours.”

“It's not a hobby. It's exercise.”

“How is stacking cards exercise?”

“A mental exercise. You see, your brain is filled with different muscles. Memory is a muscle, creativity is a muscle, organization is a muscle. You have to exercise these muscles or else they get weak.” Vinnie carefully stacked another layer of cards. “When I do this activity, I'm exercising my focus muscles, as well as my patience. It's important to have focus in my line of work. I need to be able to think clearly, solve problems no matter how tense the situation. It gives me an edge.”

Samantha turned to the kitchen. “I should get myself a hobby…”

When Vinnie Blue Nose finally checked his voice mail, he regretted not listening to it sooner. It was Miss Tina. Her voice sounded like she was in a panic, and Miss Tina was a gal who did not easily succumb to emotional outbursts. “Vinnie, you got to get down here. It's Jimmy.” She didn't have to say anything more than that. He could hear Jimmy Bozo in the background, yelling at the top of his lungs, drunk and disorderly. “He's on a freakin' rampage over here. Do you know how much this is going to cost me? You need to get the psycho out of my establishment right now.”

Vinnie put his phone back in his pocket and rubbed the tension building in his forehead. The Rainbow Gardens clown brothel was supposed to be under Bozo Family protection. It didn't look good to have the boss's son wrecking the place.

He stood from the couch and tied his red polka-dot tie around his neck.

“Where are you going?” Samantha asked from the kitchen.

Vinnie didn't answer. He grabbed his gun and loaded it with laughing bullets.

Samantha set her drink down. “Is it Jimmy again? What did he do this time?”

Vinnie wouldn't even look at her as he kissed her on the cheek and went for the door. “Don't wait up for me. This could take a while.”

She didn't yell or raise her voice, but Vinnie knew she was upset. She hated sleeping alone. As he left the apartment, he heard the splashing sound of a drink being thrown across the room.

It was five years ago when Vinnie Blue Nose made capo. He was taken out to celebrate with the rest of the guys, drinking at one of the boss's downtown strip clubs. Everyone was letting loose, turning the night into a carnival of debauchery. Hats Rizzo was on stage, getting spanked with a rubber mallet by a topless clown girl. Captain Spotty was lining the bar with shots, forcing his underlings to slam them down without using their hands. Even Jackie the Grump had a giddy smile on his face as he was taken into the back for a lap dance. Only Vinnie Blue Nose, the man they were all celebrating, restrained himself.

When the boss saw the sober look on Vinnie's face, he called him over to his table.

“What are you still doing standing upright?” Don Bozo asked, pointing at Vinnie's barely touched single-malt scotch. He was sitting in a booth with three members of the old guard—his brother and underboss, Uncle Jojo, and two of the well-established capos: Buggy Buttons and Lorenzo Laffypants. All four had half-naked girls wrapped around them, squeezing their big red noses against their cheeks.

“I'm pacing myself,” Vinnie said. “I've got things I need to do tomorrow.”

The old clowns laughed at him.

“Take tomorrow off,” Bozo said. “It's your party. You should enjoy yourself.”

Vinnie nodded at the boss, but everyone could tell he had no intention of taking the next day off.

“What's with kids these days?” Uncle Jojo said to the other men at the table. “They either don't know how to enjoy themselves or they enjoy themselves way too much.”

Lorenzo chuckled. “And you didn't enjoy yourself too much when you were their age, Jojo?”

Jojo leaned in and pointed at his old friend. “Hey, I was dependable, unlike the turks you got running numbers in your crew who think clowning's just fun and games.”

“It
is
fun and games,” Lorenzo said, bouncing the pudgy clown girl in his lap as he laughed. “You think I would've gotten into this business if it wasn't?”

“No wonder why your crew's such sorry earners,” said Uncle Jojo. “They've only got
you
to look up to.”

“My boys do just fine.”

Vinnie smiled at the old men laying into each other, pretending to be amused by their banter. Laughing at a clown's jokes, even when they weren't funny, was a sign of respect. He couldn't believe that he was actually one of them now. He was actually a capo. And he was the youngest to be promoted to such a high rank in the history of the Bozo crime family.

“Why don't you guys take these lovely ladies into the back for some lap dances,” the boss said to his friends. “I want to speak to our new capo in private.”

The old clowns got up from their seats and escorted the women away. Before he left, Uncle Jojo stopped and turned to Vinnie.

“Congratulations, kid,” he said, patting Vinnie on the shoulder. “You earned it. Now don't let us down.”

“I won't,” Vinnie said.

“I know you won't.” Then the old clown was led off by a frisky clown girl with raspberry-blue hair. Vinnie didn't know if Jojo said that as a threat or because he actually had faith in the young clown's abilities.

Vinnie sat down in the seat across from Don Bozo. The boss wasn't fidgeting with his balloon animals, which always meant that he had something important on his mind.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” the boss said. “Or, rather,
someone.
”

“Yeah?” Vinnie said, taking a sip of his scotch.

“It's about my son, Jimmy. You know Jimmy, right?”

Vinnie looked across the club at Jimmy Bozo. The guy was at the bar, laughing so hard he was screeching, slamming whole bottles of tequila down his throat and licking salt from a clown girl's stomach. Although they'd never worked together, Vinnie absolutely despised the guy.

“Of course.”

The boss looked over at his son, then back at Vinnie.

“I want him to be a part of your crew,” Bozo said.

Vinnie paused for a moment. Then he took down half his glass of scotch. That was the last thing he expected to hear.

He put his glass down, turned it clockwise a few times, then said, “With all due respect, why Jimmy? The two of us have never really seen eye-to-eye. I don't know how he'd be able to get along with me or the guys in my crew.”

“Don't take it personally. Jimmy doesn't get along with anybody. He's a self-centered brat just like his mother was. But someday I want him to take my place as head of this family. For that to happen, he needs to learn to show respect. He needs to be more like you.”

Across the bar, Jimmy Bozo was getting into a fight. Some frat boy from out of town knocked over his drink and Jimmy wasn't about to let it go. He shoved the college kid and yelled in his face like a deranged joker.

“In a few years, I plan to promote Jimmy to capo,” Bozo said, his expression getting even more severe. “Not many people are going to like that, especially not my brother. He doesn't think Jimmy's got what it takes to handle that level of responsibility.”

Vinnie looked over at Jimmy to see the crazed clown still yelling at the frat boy. The situation was escalating and the boy's friends came to his aid. One of them threw a drink at the clown and Jimmy went ballistic.

“That's why I need you to take him under your wing. You've got to train him. You've got to keep him under control and show the rest of the family he's showing signs of maturity.”

Jimmy head-butted one of the frat boys in the face, breaking the kid's nose. Then he threw a pie at one of his friends. Before the college kids knew what hit them, Jimmy was breaking bar stools over their heads and kicking them in the guts with his size 20 shoes, giggling with delight as their blood sprayed across the floor.

The boss didn't seem to notice or care about what his son was doing across the bar. It was so common for Jimmy to get into fights that it didn't even faze him anymore.

He said, “It's not going to be an easy job, but you've got to keep him out of trouble. You've got to teach him to show respect. Can I count on you?”

Vinnie Blue Nose finished his drink. Then he nodded.

“For anything,” he said.

Then he stood up from the booth and marched across the bar to break up the fight.