SHORT STORY
Send in the Clown
A short story especially for all the coulrophobes out there…
Susan opened her front door and peered out into the dark winter evening. The man standing on her doorstep was, unmistakably, a clown.
She could tell because he wore a baggy red and white suit and his face was painted white with a large red smile on his mouth. In case there was still any room for doubt, he wore a red plastic nose and an orange wig.
He looked Susan directly in the eyes and smiled, his genuine expression turning the painted one into a stretched grin.
“Ah!” he said. “Mrs Jenkins, I assume?”
“Yes, Susan Jenkins. And you must be Pendirito the clown?”
“How did you guess?” Pendirito faked shock, then giggled.
“You’re late.”
“Late? Am I? I must have got lost. It was a long journey.”
“I know, I’m paying you for it. You’re late. And you’re older than you look on the internet.”
The clown opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again and just quietly glared.
Susan looked him up and down slowly then sighed. “Oh well, you’ll have to do. Come in, the twins are waiting.”
“Just the two of them for me this evening?”
“Yes, we move around a lot. One rental place to another, so the children don’t get a chance to make many friends. That’s why I like to give them special treats, like you.” She ushered the clown in, closed the front door and led him into a large room.
The room was warm and cosy, a closed pair of thick curtains keeping out the cold and dark of the evening outside. At one end of the room was a dining table with a white tablecloth. Two small plates were laid out with place settings. In the middle of the table was a large, elaborate two-layer cake covered with pink icing and ten candles. Next to the cake lay a large knife.
The clown looked at the table and gave a genuine broad smile. “That looks lovely, Mrs Jenkins, just lovely. You’ve prepared things perfectly.”
“Why thank you. I baked the cake myself. It took ages to do the icing, but I do like to spoil the children on their birthday. Speaking of which…” She turned towards a door. “Girls!” she yelled. “The clown’s here!”
The door burst open and in spilled two young girls, arriving so quickly that they must have been standing behind the door waiting. They pulled up short at the sight of the clown and stood staring at his whitened face and globulous red nose.
“This is Tina,” Susan said, pointing to one of the girls, “And this is Ellie. They’re ten today! Girls, this is Pendirito, the clown I promised you. I think you’ll enjoy him.”
“Hello Pendi,” Tina said. She smiled and curtsied in her delicate party dress which was the same pink colour as the cake — although the icing had probably been designed to match the dress, rather than the other way round.
“Hello Mr Clown,” said Ellie, rather shyly. “I hope you’re going to be nice.”
“Yes,” said Tina. “Last year’s clown was very boring. He wasn’t any fun.”
Pendirito gave a chuckle. “Don’t worry about that, I’m sure we’re going to have lots of fun together. I’m never boring.”
At that, both girls rushed forwards and hugged one of Pendirito’s legs each.
“Mommy, he’s great!” yelled Tina.
“Just what we wanted!” added Ellie.
“What lovely girls!” the clown’s grin pushed the face paint around his mouth almost up to his gleaming eyes. He reached down to ruffle the twins’ hair. “This is going to be a very special evening.”
Susan smiled. “I’m sure it will be,” she said. “I’m going to the kitchen to make some sandwiches. You girls have fun, but remember: no touching the cake until I get back.”
“Yes mommy,” the twins replied in unison.
—
In the kitchen, Susan took out some slices of bread and began buttering them. As she did so, she heard occasional giggles coming from the other room. She smiled as she worked. When the children were younger, she’d given them a rabbit or puppy on their birthday. They’d had their first clown when they were seven and had loved him. They reminded her so much of herself when she’d been younger; she’d always wanted a clown for her birthday, but her parents had always refused. The best she’d ever got for her party had been a mime artist.
She took a block of cheese and began cutting thin slivers. These were placed on the bread, followed by slices of red tomato. In the other room, the girls were now squealing loudly and she could hear Pendirito’s voice shouting.
Yes, they were having fun. Getting a clown each year was expensive, especially with the travel. Moving house and finding rental properties that would take cash was also a lot of work, but it was worth it.
As she finished assembling and cutting the sandwiches, there was a crash from the other room. This was followed by loud screams of joy from the girls and screams of pain from the clown. More crashing and screams followed. Then silence.
Susan picked up the plate of sandwiches and opened the door into the main room.
—
As Susan walked into the room, she looked at the body of the clown laying on the floor. His throat had been slit, blood was pooling on the floor and splattered over the two girls. Tina was sitting on his stomach, slicing through his flesh with the cake knife to reveal his internal organs. Ellie was carefully pressing a birthday candle into one of his dead eyes. The clown’s face was no longer white but smeared with pink icing. A huge chunk of cake, far too big to swallow, had been forced into his mouth.
“Girls!” Susan said in a strict voice as she walked over to the table and put down the plate of sandwiches next to the ruins of the cake. “What do you think you’re doing? You’ve been very naughty.”
“Sorry mommy,” said Ellie, looking up at Susan with a guilty expression.
“Yes, we’re sorry. We know it was wrong,” added Tina.
“Yes. Very wrong. I clearly told you not to touch the cake!” She sighed. “Oh well, it is your birthday. Go wash your hands then come and eat some sandwiches.”
She walked towards the body on the floor.
“While I have my turn.”
