No Country for Old Clowns

“Don’t try to make everyone happy; you can’t. The only ones who try are clowns.” - Matshona Dhliwayo

***

“I’m really sorry, Frank. If it were up to me, we’d keep you on. But I’m afraid the school board has made their decision.”

Frank was genuinely shocked. “I don’t understand, Ms. Pedlar. Did I do something wrong?”

The principal held up her hands and shook her head. “No, not at all Frank. The kids have always loved you. We really appreciate the work you’ve done with us in the past. Please don’t see this as a reflection of your work. You’re a great clown.”

“Well, then I really don’t understand.”

Ms. Pedlar sighed. “The truth is a few parents have raised concerns of late about exposing their children to… people of your profession.”

It took a moment for Frank to understand what she meant. “Clowns?”

“Surely you’ve seen the news recently. There has been wave of scary clown sightings across the country. Idiots dressed in store-bought rubber clown masks, lurking around schools in residential neighborhoods, just trying to scare folks. Some of them are even starting to carry weapons! It’s getting out of hand.”

“I’ve seen the news, ma’am. But with all due respect, I don’t think this is a good enough reason to cancel our future shows. This is just a stupid fad. It’ll pass.”

Ms. Pedlar shook her head slowly. “Unfortunately, everyday there are more and more videos of these clowns popping up on the internet. It’s going viral. The school board thinks that it’s just safer for everybody to hold off on any clown acts until this all dies down. We don’t want to be seen as encouraging this type of behavior.”

Frank lowered his head. He was at a loss for words. Not only did his work at the elementary schools in the district represent a significant portion of his income, but it was also his favorite kind of work. The times that he performed in front of the kids, teaching them about important issues such as fire safety, stranger danger, or the importance or recycling, were the times that he felt like he was making a real difference.

Ms. Pedlar felt real pity for the man. She had argued with the board’s decision at length, but to no avail. There was no fighting this trend. Even Ronald McDonald was being sidelined as a result of this creepy clown craze. She reached out and touched Frank’s hand. He was still wearing his oversized clown gloves.

Frank looked up and Ms. Pedlar smiled softly at him. “You’re probably right,” she assured him. “This fad will pass. And as soon as it does, we’ll have you right back here performing again.”

Frank returned the smile. “Yeah. It’s like when we were kids and that Stephen King movie about the child-eating clown came out. People forgot about that pretty quickly, right?”

Ms. Pedlar’s smile faded.

“What is it?”

“Ah, actually a remake of that movie is coming out soon. It’s got one of the kids from Stranger Things in it.” She released his hand and looked away. “It actually looks pretty good.”

***

Frank sat in his car, watching the theatrical trailer for the remake of Stephen King’s It on his phone. It was an exceptionally icy day out and he had arrived to his next gig early, so he was currently parked about a block away from the house, taking shelter from the cold while he waited. It had been a couple of days since he’d lost the elementary school contract and he was feeling pretty down on himself. Luckily, October was a pretty good month for birthday parties, so he was still able to work pretty consistently. Still, it was disconcerting how many stories he had heard on the grapevine about clients cancelling on his fellow clowns, suddenly and with little to no explanation.

Of course, no explanation was really necessary. The creepy clown epidemic was not just all over social media but mainstream media as well. Apparently, this wave of pranksters pretending to be clowns in order to scare people, potentially crippling though it was to Frank’s industry, made for entertaining television.

Frank sighed as the It trailer came to an end. Ms. Pedlar was right. It did look pretty good.

As he scrolled absently through his YouTube home screen, a video caught his eye. He tapped on it and the video began to play.

It was a 3-minute talk from the head of the World Clown Association, Randy Christensen, in response to the recent wave of scary clowns. Frank had never met Randy in real life, but he seemed like a nice guy. A little naïve, but nice.

Randy reiterated that the people who were pulling these pranks were not clowns, but rather people impersonating clowns. People who were taking the good, clean, wholesome artform of clowning and distorting it in order to monger fear. Randy ended his video with a message to his fellow clowns.

“Go out and provide a positive image of clowning,” Randy said. “Show them what it is really all about. Gain their confidence, make them enjoy it, make them laugh and they will come to realize that not all clowns are a scary-type character, which sometimes the media seems to be bringing forward.”

At that moment, Frank was startled by a faint tapping at his car window. He looked up from his phone to see a police officer looking down at him.

Frank hastily put his phone down and wound down the window. “Is there a problem, Officer?”

The police officer regarded Frank’s clown make-up and rainbow wig. He then looked briefly towards the interior of the car. Clicking his tongue, he said dryly, “Do you mind stepping out of the car, sir?”

Frank did as he was told. As he exited the car and closed the door, he was surprised to see that there were four police officers standing around his car. One of them was shining a torch into the rear window.

The police officer closest to him, the one that had asked him to exit the vehicle, looked Frank up and down. He gestured to the oversized shoes that Frank was wearing. “You been driving in those, sir?”

Frank looked down at his shoes and shook his head. “No, Officer -”

“Sergeant,” the cop interrupted.

“Sorry, Sergeant. No, I just changed into these. I’m doing a birthday party just down the road.”

“That so?” The sergeant shot a look to one of his partners.

“Yes, sir. I have the invoice in my car if you want me to get it.” Frank began to turn back to the car.

“Don’t move, sir.” The sergeant pushed Frank roughly in the back so that he was forced to place his hands on the hood of the car. Meanwhile, the cop that had been shining a torch into his car opened the rear door and began to search the backseats.

“Hey!” Frank panicked. “Hey, what’s this about?”

One of the other police officers spoke up. “A resident called in a creepy clown sighting, sir.”

“Creepy?” Frank protested.

The sergeant patted Frank’s oversized overalls down before spinning him around. Two of the other officers had joined the sergeant and now the three of them were regarding him with their arms crossed and intense mistrust in their eyes.

“We got a wallet, sir.” The officer who had been searching the car came up and tossed Frank’s wallet to the sergeant, who opened it and peered at Frank’s drivers license. He looked from the photo on the license, to Frank’s heavily made-up face.

Frank was mortified by his current situation. He prayed to God that none of the parents attending the birthday party chose that moment to drive past. He closed his eyes and waited for it to be over.

However, as he closed his eyes, he suddenly heard the voice of Randy Christensen. “Gain their confidence, make them enjoy it, make them laugh and they will come to realize that not all clowns are a scary-type character.”

Frank opened his eyes and whistled. The police sergeant looked at Frank, surprised. Without saying anything, Frank wriggled his mouth downwards, towards the bright yellow marigold flower that he wore on his lapel.

The sergeant bent his face down and inspected the flower. Frank squeezed the rubber pump in his sleeve and a jet of water burst from the flower, squirting the sergeant in the face.

The sergeant sputtered and took a bewildered step backwards, wiping at his face. The officers standing behind him covered their mouths to hide their laughter.

Frank put his hands to his face, his mouth opened in a surprised O. Then he put his hands together in apology to the sergeant, who was looking at him angrily with water dripping from his face. Frank produced a brightly colored handkerchief and offered it to him. He looked at it distrustfully before taking it from the clown’s hand. To his surprise, the handkerchief was tied to another handkerchief, and another handkerchief, and another. The sergeant pulled them from Frank’s sleeve in rapid succession, until he was holding about 8 ft. of handkerchief.

The two officers watching couldn’t hold back their laughter. One of them actually applauded. The officer that had been searching Frank’s car joined them around the other side of the car, looking confused at the situation that was unfolding. Frank pointed excitedly at the man, then moved towards him. Producing a novelty giant comb from his overalls, he began to comb the officer’s bald head.

Frank offered the comb to the bald officer, who accepted it and continued to comb his own bald head, chuckling.

Frank moved to one of the other officers, the one that had applauded previously. He leant down and pressed an ear against the officer’s ample belly. Then, he stood up and pulled out a long blue balloon from his overalls. He inflated the balloon and expertly tied it into the shape of a baby pacifier. He handed the balloon pacifier to the officer, pointed at his belly, and clapped his hands together in congratulation. The officer laughed in delight and accepted the balloon, patting his own belly and saying, “You got me.”

Frank turned to the last officer who, judging from the way his muscles were practically popping out of his uniform, was a gym junkie. He pulled another balloon from his overalls and handed it to the officer, miming for him to blow it up. The muscle-bound officer put the balloon to his lips and gave it a huge blow, however he lacked the technique to inflate the balloon. Frank shook his head in disappointment and took the balloon back from the officer. He inflated it and tied it into a balloon dumbbell, which he proceeded to bicep curl a couple of times before handing it to the officer and silently suggesting that he do the same. The muscular officer chuckled deeply and began curling the balloon dumbbell with exaggerated effort.

Frank turned back to the sergeant, who was watching Frank’s act with his arms crossed, seeming to not share his colleagues’ enthusiasm for the show. Frank pulled his lips downwards in exaggerated sadness. He took out a silver balloon from his overalls, inflating it and tying it into a pair of handcuffs. He slipped the handcuffs over his wrists and held his arms out to the sergeant.

Finally, the sergeant cracked a smile. He began to clap. The other officers joined him. Frank squeaked his rubber nose and bowed deeply, basking in their applause and feeling happy to have brought a bit of joy to their day.