What A Clown

I heard of the jokester in town. My staff was afraid to share the tales, for they knew the stories infuriated me and punishment was my expertise. I inflicted many types, and excelled at using sharp objects and heated “instruments.”

Paloma, my Spanish mare, pranced sideways as I arrived at the maternity ward wing of the sprawling castle-like building. “Stay here, Paloma. Yes, here! Don’t give me the side-eye, you loony horse. I expect you here when I return.” That damned horse will be the death of me yet. I should have driven the roadster instead, and my butt hurts from riding. Paloma, I can hear your thoughts, so watch it, Girl.

“May I help you…Sir?”

“It would be M’am to you! What is your problem? Do you have bad eyesight? I’m here to see the newborns.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t stutter, you imbecile. Where are the NEWEST babies?” I don’t have time for this. Flicking my wrist, I dropped her unconscious and looked through the computer files myself. A floor plan of the building was adhered to the wall.

“Helloooooo, kiddies, Gumdrop is coming. What’s your fancy? Ladddaallladdaaa. Jolly times are coming your way. Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down...”

What the hell is that noise? Taluhlah glided close to see who was causing the commotion. Pressed against the wall, she saw a man with broad shoulders, dressed in a black shirt and striped purple-and-red pants. He had orange and blue ringlets of fake hair.

“Hi, Gumdrop. We have some 2-day-olds, one mom who has the baby blues, and an older gentleman on floor 2 who is slowly leaving this world.”

“Nurse Tracy, don’t worry, I’ll cheer everyone up.” He flipped some cards at her, which unfolded in an accordion and streamed back to his hand, while she giggled. “Do you like my new wig?” he said, patting his head. Frowning, she watched him throw jacks down onto the floor while bouncing a tiny ball.

“I’m not sure you should be playing jacks in our hallway, Gumdrop. Someone might round that corner and trip!”

“What corner?” he replied, as he slid his huge feet toward it and moonwalked backward to her, his cherry red oversized lips grinning out of his whitewashed face. “No one is coming, Doll,” he said, winking

“How is that a new wig? It’s orange with streaks of blue, the same as you wore last week.”

“Lookie here, look!” Eyeing her from his six and a half feet, he tilted his head so the barely five-foot nurse could see the side of his head and his wide brow.

“Oh, I see! Pin curls on your cheeks and forehead. Cute. Why the flip-flops instead of the matching clown shoes? Is that part of a new costume? That bandage on the toe looks like an elephant trunk.”

“I stubbed my big toe, and it hurts terribly in a shoe, so, yeah, I changed my outfit. You’re giggling, so it’s working. Haha, I made you laugh, you little grump!” Tracy eyed him as he shuffled his feet on the floor, bouncing the small ball, singing Frère Jacques loudly and off-key.

“Pick up those jacks now!”

Taluhlah had a strong desire to grab the sore toe and yank it. Where did he get a bandage like that? Is he bald under that ugly wig? What a pissant pain in the ass. I’m done with this dribble. He’s not funny, and his costume is ridiculous.

“ENOUGH!” I smiled as the two cringed. I stretched to my full height, casting a ten-foot shadow from my six-foot frame. At the flick of my wrist, the nurse slumped to the floor, asleep. The clown looked from her to me and realized I had sorcery. He began pleading.

“Shut up. Make me laugh, and I might let you live.” Hahaha, his eyes are huge; he is so scared. I LOVE it.

“What do you want?”

I propelled him outside with a supernatural push. “You are a no-show for the newborns today, clown, as I’ll be your only audience.” Continuing to use mental commands, he complacently walked out, ending in a dazed lean against my horse. Dammit, I forgot I rode Paloma! “Get your hands off my horse, clown!” My yelling broke the spell, and he turned to me.

“Your horse is beautiful, whereas you are more like a mule.” I stepped in, my fists ready to pummel him into mashed potatoes. “Oh, I’m sorry, you wanted me to be funny, right? Okay, here goes - tall lady with magic and a face like a mule, trying to act so cool, but I am not her fool....”

I jerked my palm upright, freezing him and stopping his banter, then pulled out my phone and called an Uber. Fifteen minutes later, we were back at my place. Dammit, I forgot. Paloma, come on home. Yes, it’s me, you stupid bore. I want you to come home now. Stay at the side of the road, not the middle, and trot.

I clamped Gumdrop to the counter using the wrist restraints attached to the marble. I turned on the hot spots under his palms and sat back to watch as he tried to free himself.

“What do you want? Why am I here?”

“I heard stories of you wandering around town making people laugh, especially new mothers. I had to meet this man of mirth. Is that you? Are you the funny man, Gumdrop?” Fascinated, I watched as the hot spots heated up. Strange, but he hadn’t complained…yet.

“Yes, I like to make people happy.”

“You insulted me. Was that funny to you?”

Gumdrop frowned. “I didn’t mean to be insulting, but you are detaining me against my will.”

“And, you’re ridiculous with your flip flops and the blue-orange hair in pin curls on your forehead.”

“Clowns dress to amuse people. Let me loose, you poor excuse of... a what? Woman? Is that what you think you are? A woman? You look like a scarecrow,” he said, crossing his eyes at me and laughing! In return, I swirled my hands in circles, and then I laughed as his eyes followed my hand movements, rolling in his eye sockets like marbles.

Now who’s laughing? I settled my hands, and his eyes stopped. “Very funny, scarecrow. Now I’m chained to your counter and dizzy. I might fall and rip my arm out of its socket. How would that make you feel?”

I grinned. I was beginning to actually enjoy this clown. I jumped my legs to a criss-cross position twice and watched as his legs followed. Left over right, then right over left, again and again. Swirling my wrists, his eyeballs began spinning. I snapped my fingers to the beat of his switching feet, and his head dropped left and right in rhythm. Hahahahaha. “Is this how you entertain people, Gumdrop?” Head moving, eyes spinning, ankles crossing. I heard the heat begin hissing against his palms, singeing the skin. The odor annoyed me, so I turned it off, stopped his grotesque dance, and freed his hands. He seemed asleep. Placing a thick hot pad on the marble, I took a needle-sharp skewer and pushed it through the web between his index finger and thumb. Very little blood showed, and his left hand was pinned now. Awake now, his shrug and wink were infuriating.

“Is that all you have, Scarecrow?”

“Stop calling me that!” I screamed at him, my lips touching his ear. He swung his arm backward around my neck and slammed my cheek to the marble. Before I could think, my hands were secured in the restraints.

“So now you are the captive. What is your name?” I stared at him. “Okay. I don’t need it.” He searched the kitchen drawers, and my eyes widened at what he had found. In his hand was a soft-bristle basting brush and a silicone straw cleaner. He undid the buttons on the back of my shirt. Humming songs in my ear, he began tickling me with the silicone object, stroking it across my shoulders and neck. I shivered. I KNOW! I couldn’t help it; I could not stop my skin from shivering. Then he used the brush, and as it reached my waist, being witchy-ticklish, I burst out in giggles. “Clowns have many talents. Oh, did I hear your horse outside? Let me see.” Footsteps across the floor, the door opening, Paloma whinnying. I sent her a mental message, but she wasn’t listening. She was smiling at the clown; I could SEE it in my mind. She liked him! No, no, no, no.

He released my hands from the restraints and gently pushed me across the kitchen toward the door. “Stand in the doorway and watch.”

He leaped onto Paloma, and she broke into an easy canter. As he circled on her, he winked at me, then hung off her side, his head just above the ground. His face upside down, he was grinning at me as he passed. Then, with impressive abdominal strength, he sat upright in the saddle and rose on Paloma’s back in a one-handed handstand, gripping the pommel. My lips began to curve into a smile. I couldn’t help it.

Next, cantering on Paloma, he braided his hair and turned his shirt into a cape. He jumped off, landing in a full front split, singing the Humpty Dumpty nursery rhyme. Running after Paloma, he leaped over her back and somersaulted across the grass as she cantered around him. I applauded. I couldn’t help it. He was now singing The Wheels on the Bus, as he cartwheeled toward the horse. He followed up by using Paloma as the stick for his Limbo dance; lower and lower he bent backwards, and Paloma didn’t slow for him. I gasped once, as he barely made it before her hoof clipped him. He finished his routine in one-handed cartwheels behind her, in a wide circle, until they both stopped abruptly, standing rigid before me.

He bowed low and called me, Milady.

He is kind and funny and loves making people happy. Paloma mentally spoke to me.

The skewer hole in his hand was invisible, with no redness and no hole. His goodness healed it? Paloma asked. I could test your theory, I mentally answered. Her reply was immediate. NO!

She pranced a few steps and shook her mane. Gumdrop threw me onto her back and leaped behind me. I heard him humming in my ear, his clown hair tickling my neck, and then some words followed. At last, my love has come along.

I hummed the tune aloud with him, Paloma prancing and whinnying.

Copyright © 1/28/2026 by Andrea O. Corwin

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