One Size Fits All

  She looks at me over reading glasses, reading through my application.

  “You don’t have experience as a clown,” she observes. “Or anything even closely related to an amusement park. I wonder why we hired you?”

  She appears to examine some notes, then puts my file down.

  “Either way, you look like a nice girl. That’s a plus in your favor. Be nice to the guests and you’ll go far. Fill these out.”

  She shoves some papers at me, and while she’s busy doing other things, I balance them awkwardly on my knee, filling them all out and signing them.

  “You get paid every week,” she tells me as she takes the stack from me. “Your meals are included with your board. Your supervisor on the clown team will be Racer. The park closes at midnight during the summer and staff curfew is one a.m. We keep a curfew so that we know when to worry if someone hasn’t landed in their bed. You may keep snacks in your dorm if you keep them tightly closed to prevent bugs.”

  She looks through my papers and nods. “These appear to be in order.”

  I sigh a breath of relief. I guess she isn’t going to send me away after all.

  “Your supervisor will schedule you according to need. If you’re late, that’s a mark in your file. If you’re late twice, you’re fired. We run a tight ship.”

  She smiles. “Welcome to Clown Town, Millicent. I hope you’re happy here. You may go.”

  She returns her attention to her mountains of paperwork, but when I reach the door, she looks back up.

  “Oh, and Millicent, there’s one more thing. Dating among the staff is prohibited. If you’re caught, it’s automatic termination. This includes my son.”

  There’s a warning in her eyes and my heart lunges into my throat as I nod, and I think about the way I’d been sitting in his lap just a little while earlier.

  He had to know the rules. And he did it anyway.

  What the hell?

  But my lips move because Glinda is waiting for acknowledgement.

  “No problem,” I tell her weakly, and I smile as I leave.

  But that’s a lie and my ovaries know it.

  It’s a big problem.

  Chapter Four

  Racer

  “Smells good, Mom.” A pile of chicken divan sits in front of me, steam billowing off the rice and a heavy curry scent enticing my appetite.

  “That’s what you say every Sunday.”

  “Well, it’s true. You’re the best cook I know.”

  She smiles at me as she unfolds her napkin and sets it on her lap. “Once again, you say that every Sunday after having a week of cafeteria food at your disposal.”

  I blow on a fork full of chicken, broccoli, and rice before saying, “It’s not the best food. I’m just grateful I get to have a home cooked meal every Sunday.”

  “And spend time with your mom…” She raises her eyebrow at me.

  “Of course,” I say quickly. “I look forward to every Sunday to spend some quality time with my main girl.” I wink and take another bite.

  She senses the sarcasm in my voice with a roll of her eyes. “Speaking of girls in your life…”

  Yup, I knew that was going to happen. My mom has an ultrasonic radar attached to her head for any girl that I could possibly be interested in. She can sense them from fifty miles away.

  Yeah, fifty miles!

  Want to meet the best and most renowned cock-blocker in the United States? Glinda is your gal. She is notorious for shutting down any kind of girl who might be remotely interested in me.

  The minute I walked Millie into her office, I knew my mother could sense the attraction. How did I know? The little quirk of her lips to the side. It’s her tell. I’m just surprised it’s taken her this long to say something.

  Playing coy, I say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Leaning back in my chair, I take a sip of my soda and avoid all eye contact with my mom. She’s trying to burn me with her all-knowing gaze. I’m having none of it.

  “Ralstone Halyard McGee.” Oh shit, she used my full name. “Look at me.”

  Knowing how this conversation will turn if I don’t look at her, I oblige.

  And for the record, I’m pretty sure my mom was on drugs when she named me.

  Pointing her fork at me for emphasis, she says, “Don’t you even think about getting involved with that new girl.”

  “She has a name, Mom.”

  “Yes, Maleficent. Ring any bells?”

  Confused, I ask, “What?”

  “Let me jog your memory from your younger years. Maleficent is the villain in Sleeping Beauty. She is the devil reincarnate. Do you really think you should be playing around with the devil?”

  My mom never got remarried. Can you tell?

  “First of all, her name is Millicent, not some evil villain from a Disney movie. Secondly, she’s a really nice girl looking to start a new chapter in her life. Wouldn’t it be kind of us to welcome her into Clown Town with open arms instead of pegging her as a deranged antagonist from a fairy tale?”

  “Do you even know this girl? Why does she all of a sudden want to be a clown when she came here to be an attendant at one of the rides? How convenient that she so happens to run into you and now she wants to paint clown makeup on you and make out with you in the shack.”

  Jesus, how does she know everything?

  Trying to control my temper, I pat my mouth with my napkin and set it on the table.

  “Mom, that is a huge invasion of privacy. What did I tell you about monitoring me? I want to work here and help you bring Clown Town back to its original glory but I can’t do that if you are constantly watching over me. I’m an adult now, I need my space.”

  “And what did I tell you about hooking up with the girls that work here? They are off limits.”

  “The only reason they are off limits is because you have some sick obsession over controlling me. I get it, you don’t want me to get a girl pregnant like dad got you pregnant. Your disgruntlement for being a young mom rings loud and clear. But unlike dad, I know how to be a responsible human being.” Standing from my seat, I take my plate to the sink where I rinse it and put it in the dishwasher. “I love you, Mom, but I’m done with you trying to control every little thing I do. You either back off or I’m out of here. Reliving Grandpa’s legacy is not worth the crap you put me through.”

  “Ralstone, do not leave this house. We are not done talking.”

  Leaning down, I kiss her cheek and say, “Thank you for dinner, but I refuse to stay here and listen to you lecture me about Millie. I like her, Mom. It’s that simple, you can’t change that. Have a good night.”

  Without giving her another chance to counter my statement, I retreat from her bungalow and head for the dorms where I’m hoping Millie is making herself comfortable in her new dwellings.

  When I was showing her around earlier, I could tell she was less than thrilled about sharing her space with all the other cast members but it’s free room and board, so everyone deals with it. And for the most part, we all stick to our own space.

  “Hey Racer, another dinner with mommy dearest?” Carl the Creeper asks as I walk into the dorms.

  “Keeping tabs on me now, man?”

  He shrugs. “It’s nice to know where everyone is.”

  “And you don’t think that’s creepy at all?”

  “It’s called being an informative.”

  Walking into the dorms, I call over my shoulder, “It’s called being a psychotic cretin.”

  Why Carl is still working at Clown Town is beyond me. He should have been let go two summer ago, yet my mom believes he is a good worker despite his attempts to suck innocent victims into his web of freakville.

  But Carl is the last person I want to think about right now. I have my mind set on one person and one person only: Millie.

  Excited to see her, I go straight to my bed which rests next to hers but I’m disappointed when she’s not t
here. What I do see are little touches of Mille placed all over her tiny space.

  At the foot of her bed rests a purple striped throw blanket that looks soft to the touch, weirdly I want to rub my face on it. Crap, maybe Carl the Creep is rubbing off on me.

  On her bedside table is a teal notebook, a collection of gel pens, and a picture of her with another female who looks an awful lot like her. I think it would be a safe bet to say it’s a picture of her and her sister. Under her bed is a collection of shoes ranging from colorful sneakers to killer sexy heels. Where she planned on wearing those heels, I have no clue, but hell if I don’t want to find out.

  “Hey Racer. Did you meet the new girl?” Trevor asks as his hand claps me on the back.

  “Yeah, we trained in the shack today. I’ve got a new recruit this summer.”

  “Ooo, female clown. I like it.” Trevor wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Do you think she can handle the Clown Town responsibilities of not only instilling joy into the hearts of our patrons but fear as well?”

  So Clown Town isn’t like Disney World where everyone comes together to share in the magical wonderment that Tinkerbell shits all over the entire park. You go to Clown Town for two reasons.

  One: You are a fan of jovial idiots dressed up in oversized clothes and decorated in top of the line clown paint.

  Or…

  Two: You’re teetering on your last thread of sanity and decide to scare the ever living shit out of your kids so they start to pay some respect to you as the pack leader.

  Lately, we’ve seen a lot more twos hanging around Clown Town rather than ones.

  Unfortunately, it’s a stigma clowns have obtained throughout the years. What used to be a wonderful trade in bringing kids joy, has now turned into a world wide spread of fear for the red nose men.

  Thanks Stephen King, you really fucked everything up for us.

  And despite how much we’ve tried to reverse the reputation clowns have over here in enchanting Clown Town, we’ve failed tremendously. In the past couple of months, we’ve been waffling between shutting down or re-hauling the entire park to emulate something from a horror film.

  Although walking around in my hula-hoop waistline with dangling eyes popping out of my head sounds appealing, it isn’t the vision my Grandpa once had. The master clown himself.

  “I think she can handle anything.” I smile back at Trevor. “Speaking of Millie, do you know where I can find her?”

  “Yeah, I think she’s at the cafeteria eating dinner. Not all of us have the luxury of eating a home cooked meal with our mommy.” Trevor’s teasing but the way he says mommy grates on my nerves.

  Sunday night dinners is the only thing I partake in that’s different than everyone else. When I came on board, I made sure I wasn’t treated differently. Hence why I’m shacking it up in the communal dorm rather than living in my mom’s nice bungalow, in my own room, with my own shower.

  “You sound a little jealous. Would you like me to set you up on a date with my mom?”

  “Hell yeah,” Trevor nods. “I would love nothing more than to be your step-dad.”

  “You are so fucked up.” I laugh while pulling out my bathroom caddy. Since everyone is at the cafeteria, it’s the perfect time to take a shower where no one will be in there with me.

  It’s not that I’m ashamed of my body, hell, I’ve worked hard to obtain my physique. There is just something about washing your taint in private that is more appealing.

  Like I predicted, the showers are empty, so I abandon my clothes, tossing them in front of my locker. I grab my shower tote and turn on my favorite faucet. By now, I know all of the well-functioning faucets and the second one on the right has by far the best water pressure.

  I’ve been here for a while, showering with the opposite sex and I have to admit, being a guy is so much easier. I have one soap for hair, body, and junk. Women have so many other tricks of the trade with their washes, conditioners, shampoos, douches, and shaving cream. It’s nauseating how long it takes them to get through a simple process such as cleaning one’s self.

  Thankfully, all it takes is two minutes washing away the grimy day and I’m done.

  I dry off quickly and head for my locker. I turn the corner and run smack dab into another human.

  Being caught off guard, I fall backwards, straight on my ass, shooting my bathroom caddy across the floor.

  “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see…”

  Millie is hovering over me as her voice dies down and her eyes widen.

  To my horror, her hand lifts, her finger points at my crotch and she says, “Penis, oh my god, there is a penis.”

  Shit.

  Quickly, I close the open junction of my towel and stand, trying to look as casual as possible and not let the horrified look on Millie’s face affect me.

  “That was a penis!” she says a little more dramatically.

  “Yes, there is a penis between my legs. You act as if that’s a surprise. Were you expecting to find a pair of labia lips? Maybe a little four-inch clitoris?” I try to ease the tension building between us.

  “No, it’s just…” she looks down at my crotch and then quickly covers her eyes while running in place. “Eep, the penis has a boner! There is a boner pointing at me.”

  “What?” I glance down at my crotch and don’t see any sign of a boner, nor do I feel one. “There is no boner. What are you talking about, Millie?”

  Peeking through her fingers, she looks down again and points at my crotch once more. “Right there, a boner. See how your towel is puffed out?”

  I glance back down again and all I see is a bulge. This girl most be incredibly inexperienced if she thinks a bulge is a boner.

  Grabbing the back of my neck and trying not to bust out in laughter, I say, “Sweetheart, it’s just my bulge. If I had a boner, it wouldn’t ‘puff’ out, it would pitch a fucking tent. Have you never seen a penis before?”

  She bites her bottom lip and slowly backs away. Her face is bright red with embarrassment and her upper lip has a light sheen of sweat coating it. “Not in person.”

  I nod. “Well, I guess I’m honored that mine is the first you’ve ever seen.”

  “Why was it bald?”

  I can’t help it, I laugh. “Because I believe in keeping things neat and orderly down there. Don’t want to get lost in a briar patch.”

  Backing away still, she nods. “Do you have a boner now?”

  I shake my head. “No, still a bulge, but since you’re so interested, next time I get one I will be sure to notify you.”

  Chapter Five

  Millie

  OhmiGodOhmiGodOhmiGod.

  Racer is grinning at me, completely unaffected by my humiliation, and I’m embarrassed to admit to myself that I’m fascinated by his penis.

  His penis.

  I’m staring at his penis bulge.

  And if that’s not a boner, his penis must be huge.

  I peek at it again.

  Racer lifts an eyebrow. “If you want a closer look, I can lower my towel again.”

  Red floods my cheeks, and I think I’m having a heart attack. I yank my gaze back to his face and keep it there. Must ignore the penis.

  “No, thank you.”

  “Are you sure?” the rascal waggles his eyebrows now. “If you want to examine it closer, you can also touch it.”

  My chest constricts, and I think I need to sit down. My legs are threatening to give out.

  Racer laughs and picks up his toiletries. “Don’t worry, he’s not going to attack you. He’s well-behaved. Most of the time.”

  With that, he leaves me, heading down the hall to the dorm. His back glistens with beads of water that he missed with his towel, and I find that I have the sudden urge dry it for him.

  Lord, what is wrong with me?

  Limply, I trail behind him. When I turn the corner into our room, he’s already getting dressed, pulling a dry t-shirt down over h
is glorious abs.

  Glorious?

  What the heck is wrong with me?

  I sit on the edge of my bed, allowing my weak legs a rest. The last thing I need is to fall down like a fool. I close my eyes. When I open them, Racer is sitting on his bed, watching me.

  “You ok?” he grins again, and I love the way it’s slightly crooked. “Was my penis too much for you to handle?”

  God.

  I swallow hard. “Of course not. I can handle anything.”

  He throws his head back and laughs at that, getting so much enjoyment out of it that I find myself laughing too.

  “I believe you can,” he nods. “I truly believe you can.”

  He leans toward me, his face growing more serious. “Hey, Millie. I was wondering…”

  He pauses, and I wait. “Yes?”

  “Well, I was wondering if you—“

  “Hey, clowns!” The creepy guy, Carl, pokes his head into our dorm room. He interrupts whatever Racer was getting ready to say, and it’s annoying because I have a feeling I would’ve liked it.

  “What, freak?” Racer growls at him, clearly annoyed, too.

  Carl raises a bushy eyebrow. “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

  “Of course you weren’t,” Racer answers smoothly. “That would be against the rules.”

  Something in me deflates. Of course. He wouldn’t be willing to break the rules, not with his mom as our boss. He has to set an example. He can’t date me.

  I feel a sense of loss at that realization.

  Carl looks at us both, unconvinced. “Well, anyway. Girlie here needs initiated, and you know it.”

  Racer startles, glances at me, then back at Carl. “I think it’s time we discontinued that tradition. It was started so long ago. Times have changed, old man.”

  Carl laughs with yellowed teeth. “Nah. They haven’t. Come on, girlie. If you want to be one of us, you’ve got to come with me.”

  Racer stares at me. “You don’t have to, Millie.”

  But I feel like everyone in the room is staring at me now, waiting.