She leaned in and raised the reading glasses hanging from her neck for a closer look. She nodded her approval and looked at her daughter.

  “Very nice, Cheryl. You’re so gifted. It’s a shame you aren’t doing it anymore.”

  “Leave it alone, Mom,” Cheryl said.

  “Okay, I know. It’s just a shame, that’s all,” her mother said.

  The girls interrupted and started chanting, “We want McDonald’s. We want McDonald’s.”

  Cheryl’s mother rolled her eyes. “Well, I guess I better get going so these munchkins can get their Happy Meal fix.”

  Cheryl thanked her for taking the kids and told the girls to behave at Grandma and Grandpa’s house that night. Her mother turned to leave and said, “Oh, there was a package on the porch for you. I brought it in. It’s over here beside the door.” She left with the girls.

  Looking at the box resting beside the door, Alan realized what sparked Cheryl’s mood swing. The salon where she used to work was in the mall. Her growing phobia restricted her from crowded places, and his unintentional blunder struck her most sensitive nerve. Comments from her mother intensified her discomfort in discussing what was clearly an embarrassing personal flaw.

  With his new understanding of the situation, the tension in the room became uncomfortable for both of them. He was about to break the silence when she grabbed a broom and said, “They love their Grandma.”

  “I noticed. They also seem to love McDonald’s.”

  “Oh yes, they’ve been asking for that for the past three days,” she said.

  Again, he started to connect the dots. Her mother took the kids because Cheryl wasn’t able to.

  “You know, Cheryl, if you ever need help with that, I’d be happy to take the girls to McDonald’s—or anywhere else—for you.”

  Cheryl dropped the broom and glared back at him. “I don’t need you to do things for me, Alan. If you want to take the girls out sometime, you’re more than welcome. But I don’t need you to do it FOR me.”

  He started to think getting involved with a woman might not be a good idea. No matter what he said, she heard something completely different.

  “I’m sorry, Cheryl. That’s not what I meant to say. I just wanted—”

  “No, Alan. I’m sorry,” she said as she sat on a kitchen chair with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

  “I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. It’s my problem and I need to deal with it.”

  Alan sat beside her. “Its okay, you don’t have to apologize. I’m an idiot. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “No, I don’t want people to have to think before they say anything to the crazy lady. I just don’t know why I’m like this. I was perfectly fine five years ago. Now I feel like it’s getting worse every day. You were right. I didn’t take the girls to McDonald’s because the last time we went, it was crowded. It was two in the afternoon. When I saw all the cars in the parking lot, I told the kids we would go through the drive-through. Of course, that wasn’t good enough. They enjoy the playland more than the food. So we went inside. I couldn’t take it. I left them in there and parked the car outside the playland so I could watch them from the parking lot. What kind of mother am I? I’m so ashamed.” She started crying and leaned into Alan’s shoulder.

  “Have you talked to anyone about it? I mean have you talked to, like—someone professional who could help you?”

  She raised her head from his shoulder and wiped her eyes. “Yes, I saw two different doctors. It felt good talking to them, but neither could help me with my problem. I even tried pills. Nothing worked.”

  Alan glanced at the box in the foyer. It was hard for him to keep his secret, but he didn’t want to get her hopes up. What if it failed? Or worse, what if she thought he was crazy? No, he had to let the plan play out. For now, he needed to get to work. He couldn’t afford to be late and he already stayed past his buffer.

  He stood in front of her and looked into her eyes with a combined expression of sympathetic optimism. “Cheryl, I’m sure things will get better for you. Don’t ask me how I know, but I really believe things will improve soon.”

  “I wish I could believe that, Alan.”

  “Just trust me. Things will change. And I hate to leave you all upset like this, but I gotta run. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for work.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay. Go to work. Oh, and good luck with your date. Promise me you’ll come back and tell me all about it.”

  “You know I will. Thanks again for the haircut. You brought me into the twenty-first century.” He rushed to his car and drove off.

  Cheryl waved from the porch. He turned the corner and she stepped back inside and closed the door. She tucked her index finger under her short sleeve and pressed it into the corners of her eyes, blotting up the remaining tears as she returned to the kitchen.

  Chapter 14

  It was a slow start to Alan’s shift at Vince’s. With a solitary pizza in his passenger seat, he was driving to the apartment of the girl he terrified the night before, the same girl Paula’s husband, Dave, was having an affair with. He didn’t know who called in the order, but whoever it was specifically requested Alan deliver it. He assumed the caller was Dave, summoning him back for additional insurance for his silence, with money, threats, or both.

  His curiosity in Dave’s motives faded as he drove by the Hidden Valley neighborhood, where he’d dropped his first Peepers figure off on Mrs. Henderson’s front porch twenty-four hours earlier. He was anxious to know if she retrieved the figure and pizza. If so, did it work? Was Peepers able to help her? If he stopped by to check on her, would she answer the door by opening it wide? Or would she even be home? With his and Peepers’ help, she might have been out shopping or visiting old friends.

  The answers to his questions had to wait. His first priority was to deliver Dave’s pizza to his love shack and discover what he was up to.

  With pizza in hand, he knocked on the apartment door. The sound of voices arguing on the other side indicated Dave’s presence and foul mood. Dave flung open the door, pulled Alan inside, and closed the door behind him.

  “See! It’s just the freaking pizza guy. You gotta get over it already,” he said to Debbie, who peered around the kitchen wall.

  Turning back to Alan, Dave grabbed the pizza and told him to wait there while he took it to the kitchen.

  “I can’t believe you’re out of fucking beer. I pay for everything else around here and you can’t remember to have beer for me?” he said.

  “I said I was sorry, Dave. What do you want from me?”

  “For starters you can go to the store and get more beer.” He stuffed a ten-dollar bill in her front pocket and continued, “And not like the last time when you got the cheap stuff and never gave me the change.”

  “I bought milk with the change,” she replied.

  “Buy your own fucking milk. Do I look like a bank to you? It’s bad enough I pay your rent. Then you pull a stupid stunt and call my cell when I’m home with my family.”

  “I told you I was sorry.”

  Alan didn’t want to witness more of Dave’s verbal abuse. He was also worried that she might recognize him as the clown who scared the piss out of her. “Hey guys, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have another delivery. Eleven fifty for the pizza.”

  Debbie brushed by Alan and grumbled, “Pay the guy.”

  “And get me a pack of Marlboro too,” Dave barked before the door slammed behind her.

  “It’s eleven fifty,” Alan said.

  Dave pulled out the money and handed it to him. It was only twelve dollars. So much for the hush money, Alan thought.

  Then Dave confessed that he didn’t want the pizza, that he only ordered it to get Alan back out so they could discuss something.

  Here it comes, Alan thought. More threats to keep me from talking to Paula.

  “Here’s the thing, buddy. Paula mentioned something the other day about you
being a clown.”

  “Yes. It’s something I do part time. Currently I’m—”

  “Well, here’s the problem,” Dave cut in.

  “She wants to hire you for my kid’s fifth birthday party this Sunday.”

  “Oh, you need a clown for a birthday party? Sure—I’m free Sunday afternoon.”

  “No, let me finish. I’d never stand in the way of another man doing what he’s got to do to make a living, even if it’s dressing like a clown to entertain five-year-olds. Can’t say I get it, but I respect the fact that you do it, despite what people think. But, under the circumstances, I can’t hire you for the party with what you know, unless I know you can be trusted with our little secret.”

  “What are you saying, Dave?”

  “I’m saying I’ll allow you to take the job, but you better keep your mouth shut or else you might die in your stupid clown costume. I really don’t think you would want to die dressed as a ridiculous clown. Would you, Alan? Is that how you want to die?”

  “Are you really threatening me, Dave?”

  “Threatening you? Don’t be stupid. I’m just being protective of my family. If anyone does anything to hurt my family, then yes—I’d have to hurt them. Wouldn’t you? I mean if you had a family and someone did something to hurt them, wouldn’t you do anything to prevent that from happening?”

  I can’t believe this, Alan thought. This asshole views me as the threat. He’s oblivious to the fact that it’s his own actions that threaten the stability of his family. Regardless of his new level of contempt for Dave, he didn’t want to get involved.

  “I told you, Dave. It’s not my place. You don’t have to worry about me. I won’t say anything to Paula.”

  “That’s good, pal, because Paula’s a good person. She doesn’t deserve to have her family split up because of some young slut like Debbie.”

  “Whoa! Be nice,” Alan said.

  “What do you mean by that? You saw her. She’s a stupid whore. To be honest with you, I’m starting to get sick of the bitch. After the stunt she pulled last night, I was ready to come over here and beat the shit of her. Fucking bitch!”

  “I can see that whatever happened really angered you, Dave. But seriously, you weren’t really thinking about hurting her, were you?”

  “Fuck yes! She could have destroyed my family. Like I told you, I won’t let anyone do that. She’s just lucky I cooled off, but now she’s on probation. One more stunt like that and she’ll be sorry.”

  “Well, she seemed nice to me,” Alan said.

  “She’s just like all of them, Alan. But I guess you wouldn’t really know much about women, would you? I don’t suspect you date much. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re probably better off being a loser. Women just complicate everything.”

  “No offense taken.” Alan smirked. “Well, I better get going, Dave. I have to get back to my loser job of delivering pizzas. And don’t worry, when Paula hires me to be a clown at your son’s party, my big fat red lips will be sealed.”

  Alan left the apartment and returned to his car, where he sat to cool off before driving away. He looked at the box in his back seat and considered what Dave just admitted to him. Lyle was a bully, and he definitely needed to change his ways. However, at that moment, Dave appeared to be much more dangerous. He couldn’t assume Dave’s bravado was nothing more than a testosterone-driven display of dominance. If there were the slightest chance that he would follow through with his threats, Debbie could be in serious danger. Lyle would have to wait. His first Spanky would be assigned to Dave.

  From the glove compartment, he pulled out a marker and blacked out Lyle’s name. As he wrote Dave’s name under the blotch, he spoke to the boxed figure to ensure the switchover would take. “Spanky, there’s been a change of plans. I’m not sure if this fits within your specialty, but it’s my hope that you can help in turning Dave into a better person. I’m not doing this because he was threatening me. I’m doing this because he’s a threat to both Debbie and his family. If you truly have the power to adjust this guy’s attitude, this would be the time to do it. I’m afraid he’s about to hurt Debbie. I can’t allow that to happen. I would also like to see him change his ways and become faithful to his family. Please take this opportunity to demonstrate my faith is not misplaced in the guild. Please protect Debbie and Paula from his volatile and thoughtless behavior.”

  With the box securely tucked under his arm, Alan went back to the apartment and placed it against the door. He looked around to be sure he was alone and his path was clear for a quick departure. It didn’t take two seconds for him to disappear from sight after ringing the bell.

  Dave opened the door, looked around for the mystery guest, and then looked down at the box. With nobody in sight, he shrugged, picked it up, and went inside.

  Dave’s first name was the only delivery information on the box. Wasting no time figuring out what was inside, he broke the tape, flipped up the four cardboard flaps, and removed the unusual figure.

  “What the hell is this?” he said, studying it closely. He turned it in his hand to look at the back when he heard a low gravelly voice say, “My name is Spanky. I represent the Guild of Fallen Clowns. On this day your life will change.”

  Unfazed by the voice, Dave searched for the button that triggered it to speak. Unable to locate a switch, he ran his hand in front of it in an attempt to trip a motion sensor. Finally, he gave the figure a hard shake, then stood it on the table and waited for it to speak.

  “What the hell,” he said, staring down at the challenging figure. He looked up and down the front, then faced it toward the window and searched its back.

  With no obvious solution to the source of the voice activator, he gave up and grabbed a slice of pizza. He got five steps into the next room when the voice returned with a louder, more personalized message. “I said, on this day your life will change—Dave.”

  Dave pulled the slice from his mouth and spun to face the figure. It was still upright on the table, but no longer facing the window. It was turned, facing him.

  “Holy shit! That’s not how I left you. How did you spin around?” he said as he returned to the table and turned the figure away from him. The following four to five minutes, he watched and waited for it to speak or move. Nothing happened.

  Stumped and hungry, he turned away and started walking away from the room when the voice stopped him. “Hey! Stupid! What’s it going to take to get your attention?”

  Dave turned to see the figure once again facing him.

  “What the frick is going on?” Dave mumbled.

  “I’ll tell you what’s going on,” the motionless figure replied.

  “Someone told me you are a complete asshole—Dave. I’m told you are thinking about hurting Debbie. I’m also told that you’re cheating on your wife, Paula. And the worst part is that you refuse to take responsibility for your own actionsdick face.”

  Dave looked around the room for some sort of clue to how the trick was being executed.

  “Alan!” he said. “Where are you?” He knew Alan didn’t come into the apartment so he thought maybe he was controlling the figure remotely from outside the door. Ignoring the talking figure on the table, he rushed for the door.

  “Okay, Alan!” Dave said as he flung the door open. There was someone standing on the other side; however, it wasn’t Alan. It was a life-size, living copy of the figure on his table. His broad shoulders and thick build filled the opening. Dave’s body started to turn but his feet didn’t catch up. He tripped and fell to the floor.

  Spanky stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him. He smiled at the helpless Dave, sprawled on the floor below him.

  “Who are you?” Dave said.

  Spanky rolled his head, relieving his stiff muscles with faint cracking sounds. “I believe I already told you who I am,” he said while motioning to his figure on the table.

  Dave turned to the figure and then looked back at Spanky. “The st
atue?”

  “Yes, the statue. My powers are held within it. I was sent as a—gift to you.”

  “A gift? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Okay, I can see you aren’t very smart. Let me start over. My name is Spanky. I represent the Guild of Fallen Clowns. On this day your life will change.”

  Dave kept his eyes on Spanky as he cautiously stood to his feet.

  “Spanky, huh? Well, Spanky, I don’t know what game you’re playing or how you pulled off this trick, but I think it’s time for you to leave.” Dave walked to the table and picked up the figure. “Now, take your mini-Spanky and please leave me alone before I call the cops.” He stood in front of Spanky with the figure held out. Spanky didn’t take it. He walked around Dave toward the kitchen table, sat in a chair, and waited for Dave’s response.

  Dave walked across the room to the seated Spanky and lowered his hand with the figure. “Look, pal! I don’t want any trouble here. Like I said, the joke’s over. Now take your little toy here and get out. This is your last chance.”

  Spanky remained seated and grinned. “This is not a game. I was sent here to help you become nicer to others. You won’t be rid of me until my transformation of you is complete.”

  “Oh, this is getting ridiculous. I’m calling the cops,” Dave said. He put the figure on the kitchen table and stomped across the room. The cordless phone was on the couch. Before reaching for it, he looked over his shoulder. Slouched in the chair, Spanky watched, unconcerned.

  Dave turned, grabbed the phone, and prepared to dial when he looked back to give Spanky a final warning. “I’m going to do it. This would be a good time to reconsider.”

  Spanky laughed. “What will you tell them? Someone sent you a toy clown figure that came to life and threatened you? Here’s what they’ll see when they arrive.” Spanky snapped his fingers and vanished. His figure wobbled on the table. Once it settled, the figure’s arm reached out and the tiny fingers let out a barely audible snap. Instantly, the life-sized Spanky was back in the chair smiling back at him.

  Dave dropped the phone and stumbled back. “How did you do that?”

  Spanky stood from the table and walked into the center of the room. “Sit down, Dave,” he said casually.

  With his eyes glued on Spanky, Dave stepped back and lowered himself to the sofa.

 
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