Gasps filled the crowd as I cracked the prop egg over Ryla’s crown. Then, the gasps turned to clapping and impressed shouts as everyone realized the egg was empty and there were only a few little pieces of shell falling to the ground.
I put on a puzzled expression, eating up the kid’s amazed reactions.
“Huh. That’s funny, I swore I heard fluttering inside this egg.” And then I snapped my fingers and grabbed the other prop egg from my waist pouch, which, unbeknownst to everyone, came complete with a wind-up chick inside.
“Alright, let’s try this again. One, two, three! Oogaly boogaly!”
After I cracked the egg and held up the wind-up chick, Ryla beamed, the crowd clapped, and thank you Jesus and the Holy Goats, Polly was smiling.
* * *
I was zipping my duffel closed as I used the back of my thumb to scratch beneath my wig. My skin had gone past itching to burning before the clown show started. Of course, I’d then stayed to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Ryla, who also asked if Kent the Clown would stick around for cake. My eyes had started to water so badly, I was going to have trouble seeing the road; but I wasn’t going to risk taking off my makeup here.
“Hi! I wanted to catch you before . . . are you alright?” I squinted to see a blurry Leah Michaels in front of me.
I waved her off. “This is my last bag so I’ll be out of here soon. I’ll be alright.” If me being five minutes from having the skin melt off my face was considered alright, so be it.
Leah took a step closer to me. “Jace? Is that you?”
Damn. I’d forgotten to use my clown voice. Ducking my head as I hoisted the bag over my shoulder, I gave a sheepish smile in her direction. “Oh, uh, yeah. Hi, Leah. Just doing a favor for a friend.”
I didn’t want to be rude, but I needed to go or else I was going to start scratching my face so hard it was going to bleed. “I think I’m having a little reaction to the face paint. If you’ll excuse me.” I started to walk off, desperate to get some relief, when Leah jumped in front of me.
“I had no idea it was you! You sure outdid yourself.” Leah paused. “Do you need a bathroom? Or like, a doctor?”
Probably.I shook my head, just wanting to get out of there. “Eh, I’m fine. It could be worse.”
Leah crossed her arms, I think. I was having a hard time seeing her.
“Sure thing, I’ll let you go. But only if you can tell me how many fingers I’m holding up.”
I squinted at her fingers.
“Three?” I guessed.
“Four.” She grabbed my forearm and started to pull me toward the house. “Come on, Kent. I’ll show you to a bathroom no one uses. Then you can make a quick getaway in your clown car.”
CHAPTERELEVEN
POLLY
Rock bottom is the only bottom I’ve touched in over a year. So, yeah. It’s been quite a dry spell.
Drags to Richesby Ann Richter
Narrated by Nikki Martin
After the clown show came cake and presents, after which the party wound down. In the biggest surprise of the day, Kent the Clown’s act wasn’t creepy. He had the kids eating out of his hand, and even the adults were entertained. There was one bit near the end when he started to do a soft shoe dance routine with a broom and coat that had the kids cracking up whereas I, on the other hand, appreciated it due to something else. By that point Kent’s yellow costume had started to stick to him, unsurprisingly due to the heat, but it showed off his toned body underneath as he swayed and dipped the broom. I didn’t think I’d ever be attracted to a clown, but perhaps this was a new low. I’d become so sex deprived that I was now lusting after clowns.
I was saying goodbye and handing out treat bags to the kids when the one person I’d managed to avoid for most of the day came up to me.
“Polly, if I could have a word.”
I gave my father a stiff nod, then handed off the last treat bag to a little boy and waved goodbye at his mother, then shut the front door.
“Where would you like to talk?” I asked the judge.
He turned silently, so I followed him into the small study near the entrance.
