writers_loft | Depressing Clown Short Story

Don't ask me why I wrote this, it's 4 o' clock in the morning, and I should be writing a speech for later today...

Whatever, enjoy it, comment, give tips, criticize it. I'm going to bed...

“Another good show tonight, McLaughs,” an acrobat dressed in red and blue sequined tights tells a clown wearing a polka dotted, baggy jumpsuit, the obligatory red ball on his nose, and a wild, red wig, who is taking off his clown shoes.

“You too, Jim,” the clown replies, looking up to see who it is and wave goodbye to his coworker. Waiting until the acrobat leaves earshot before sighing, McLaughs pulls out a dull, silver flask and drinks from its cap less depths.

“Look, mom! It’s McLaughs!” a voice of a small child exclaims from behind the clown. Seizing up a little as he looks for a place to hide the flask, the mother replies to her child.

“Now now, it’s not good to run off. It’s time to go home,” the mother says as she takes the small boy’s wrist. A sigh of relief escapes McLaughs lips, but he still puts the flask on the ground, in case the kid insists.

“But I want to say hi to him!” the kid insists, as predicted. Standing up, the clown puts on his famous smile and turns around the face the kid.

“Did I hear someone say my name?” McLaughs asks enthusiastically, reaching up and squeezing his big red nose twice, making a honking nose as he does so. Producing a cheer from the child, the clown continues to smile and bows from the applause. Standing back up, he walks over to the kid and kneels down in front of him. “And what’s your name?”

“Mark,” the kid says with a bright smile on his face.

“Well, Mark, since you found me, I’ll let you do something special,” McLaughs says, winking at Mark. “I’ll let you honk my nose!” he tells him, reaching up and squeezing it, making the honking noise as he does.

“Really?!” the kid asks ecstatically, practically jumping up and down.

“Yea! Just give it a little squeeze.”

Reaching up hesitantly, Mark took hold of the big, red nose in his tiny, pale hand. Swallowing the lump he had in his throat he gave it a squeeze, and McLaughs made the honk noise again, sending Mark into a fit of giggles.

“That’s a good boy. Now you better go home with mom before she gets mad,” McLaughs tells the kid, his smile turning into a frown. “No one likes mad mommy’s,” McLaughs says, patting the kid on the head before standing back up.

“Okay McLaughs,” Mark says, looking from the clown to his mom. “Let’s go then, I don’t want a mad mommy.”

“Alright sweetie,” his mom tells him, looking up at McLaughs. “Thank you, he really loves your act.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem. I think everyone deserves their happiness,” he tells her, smiling at her then back down at Mark. “Bye Mark! I hope you’ll come again,” he says, honking his nose twice. Waving to mother and child as they walked away, the emotion fades from his face as he heads back to his box. Picking up the flask, he takes another swig before finishing taking off his shoes and putting his normal ones on.

Starting to walk home, McLaughs does not even bother to take his make-up off tonight. Under the bright city lights, the clown walks the streets, heading for home. The dark clouds overhead tease of rain to accentuate the night. Hearing a commotion down an alley, McLaughs walks down the space between buildings, coming to an empty lot with people.

“Take the purse, leave us alone!” a woman yells, throwing her purse at one of the men encircling her. The man it was thrown at catches it and another man produces a gun.

“You’ll give us your kid too, if you know what’s good for you,” the man with the gun says, pointing it at her. She screams right as thunder cracks in the sky above.

Beholding the scene, McLaughs runs towards the man with the gun and hits him over the head with his clown shoes, making the man drop to the dirt.

“What the hell?” one of the others says as the clown hits another assailant with his shoes, making him stumble back. “Who is this…clown?” a third one says as the 4th picks up the gun from the dirt and points it at McLaughs. The adrenaline pumping faster as the clown beholds a gun stuck in his face, he grits his teeth and rushes towards the man.

Another crash of thunder resounds against the buildings as McLaughs drops to the ground, unmoving as a drizzle begins to fall. The woman screams again and the man with the gun shoots her too, ending the screech.

“Where’s the kid?” the man with the gun asks his cohort who is getting his buddies up.

“I dunno! Forget about him and grab the purse and let’s go!” he shouts in response, getting his fallen comrade up before making a break for it.

The rain falls harder onto the empty lot with two still bodies lying in it. A child who was hiding behind some dumpsters comes out and walks over to his fallen mother. Shaking her body, he calls for her, but to no avail. Seeing McLaughs, he walks over to the clown and shakes him too.

“McLaughs…” he sniffles out, shaking the clown’s shoulder. The clown rolls over onto his back, groaning from the pain of the bullet wound in his chest. “McLaughs!” the child cries out in anguish and happiness.

“Who’s there…?” the clown asks, his eyelids fluttering, trying to open, but the falling rain makes it hard.

“It’s me, Mark,” the kid tells him, standing over the clowns head, tears or rain drops falling down his chubby cheeks.

“Mark?…But, I’m Mark…” the clown says, finally opening his eyes and looks up at the face of the child from earlier, reality snapping back to his head. Groaning again, McLaughs reaches a hand up and touches a hand to the wound before moving his hand up over his face to look at the blood. Giving a hushed laugh, the clown groans again before looking at the kid. Looking down at the clown very distressed, Mark reaches down and honks McLaughs nose. Trying his best to produce a honk, it comes out as another groan. “If they ask…why I saved you…tell them…everyone…deserves their happiness…” McLaughs whispers to Mark before his entire body relaxes. Reaching out and squeezing McLaughs nose again, no sound escapes the clowns lips as the rain continues to fall, making the face paint run.