A Nightmare on Clown Street

by R. L. Stine

  Dad sighed. He pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “At the circus down the street,” he said.

  “Ray, were you planning to join the circus?” Mom asked.

  “Ha-ha. Funny,” I muttered.

  She finally turned to me. Mom is very pretty. She has straight blond hair, round blue eyes, and a terrific smile. She used to model for the ad agency Dad works for here in Tampa.

  My friends are always telling me how I have the hottest mom in town. It’s kind of a weird thing to hear all the time.

  She frowned at me. “Ray Gun, I’m upset with you.”

  I lowered my head. “Sorry. You see, Heather and I couldn’t decide on a science project. So I thought maybe the circus would give us some fresh ideas.”

  Was she buying it? No.

  “Fresh ideas at the circus? Seriously?” She shook her head. “You’ll have to do better than that, Ray.”

  Dad set down his water bottle. “Just another one of your crazy ideas, huh, buddy?”

  Mom picked up an envelope and waved it at me. “We have an invitation for you. But now we don’t know if you can be trusted.”

  “An invitation? What is it?” I made a grab for the envelope, but Mom swiped it out of my reach.

  “It’s from your uncle Theo,” Mom said.

  I felt a burst of excitement. “And he wants me to come stay with him at the circus all summer?” I cried.

  Mom glanced at Dad. Then she nodded. “Your dad and I aren’t sure you’re ready to go off on your own like that. Especially after you pull a stunt like sneaking out of the house tonight.”

  “Of course I’m ready!” I cried. “I’m twelve years old. I’m not a kid.”

  “But you do crazy things,” Dad said. “You’re too impulsive. You —”

  “Is that a yes?” I cried. “Uncle Theo will look out for me. You know he’s a good guy. We talked about this when he visited. He said I could work with him and he’d take care of me.”

  “Well …” Mom hesitated, waving the envelope in her hand.

  “Can I go? Please? Can I go?”

  “Okay,” they both said at once.

  I jumped into the air, screaming. Only two weeks till school was out. I knew this was going to be the most exciting summer of my life.

  * * *

  Two weeks later, Koko’s Klown Academy was playing in Jacksonville. So it wasn’t a very long bus ride for me.

  My parents packed up nearly everything I owned into two big suitcases. They took me to the bus station. And they both gave me about a thousand warnings not to be crazy and to follow every word my uncle said.

  I promised and promised. I raised my right hand and swore to be perfect.

  I’m not sure they believed me.

  As the bus made its way north to Jacksonville, I wanted to think about Uncle Theo’s circus and what kind of job he had in mind for me. But the teenager in the seat next to me stayed on his phone arguing with his girlfriend for the whole trip. I couldn’t think about anything.

  I was so happy when the bus pulled into the Jacksonville station. I jumped down and waited for the driver to pull out my two bags. It was a hot, humid day. The sun kept peeking out from high clouds. There was no breeze at all.

  I pulled my suitcases to the curb. Then I shielded my eyes with one hand and searched for Uncle Theo.

  No sign of him.

  Was he waiting for me inside the station?

  Before I could pick up my suitcases, I saw someone moving fast across the parking lot.

  Whoa!

  A terrifying-looking, red-faced man with an axe buried in his head!

  He came charging at me like a stampeding bull, waving both arms, shrieking in panic: “Murder! Murder!”

  I laughed. “Uncle Theo, you look different,” I said.

  “Ray, that’s because you’ve never seen me with an axe in my head.”

  He wrapped me in a hug. “Good to see you. I’m so happy you’re here.”

  I stepped back and studied him. Theo’s clown name is Murder the Clown. Even though he was dressed in a ragged, long, polka-dot jacket and baggy yellow pants, he looked totally evil.

  His face was painted bright red. His mouth was hidden inside a thick, black scowl. His painted black eyebrows stretched down the sides of his face. His curly golden wig was split down the middle by the blood-spattered hatchet that appeared to be buried deep in the top of his head.

  Instead of a clown ruffle, he had a fat brown snake around his neck. It was fake, of course, but very real looking. Its jaws were open wide, its fangs ready to bite.

  “Uncle Theo, do you always walk around town in your clown makeup?” I asked.

  “The circus makes us stay in costume whenever we’re out in public,” he said. He picked up my suitcases. I followed him into the bus station.

  A small crowd had gathered to stare at him. He set down the bags and walked over to them. I saw his eyes flash with excitement. Last year when he visited, he told me how much he loved to entertain an audience.

  He leaned close to a man in work overalls who had two little redheaded boys at his sides. “Have you seen an axe anywhere?” he asked. “I know I had one, but I can’t find it.”

  The man gazed at the axe in Murder’s head and smiled. But the two little boys backed away. I could see they were frightened.

  “I’d lose my head if it wasn’t glued on!” Murder said. He turned to the little boys. “Don’t be scared of me,” he barked at them. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? You could scare yourself!”

  Some people in the small crowd laughed.

  But the father shook his head angrily. “You shouldn’t scare little boys,” he told Murder.

  “Why should parents have all the fun?” Murder exclaimed. He tossed back his head and let out a long, evil laugh.

  “Ooh, I have such a headache!” Murder cried, pointing to the axe in his head. “Such a headache! You might call it a splitting headache! Hahaha! Do you know what I have a sudden craving for? Chop suey! Hahahaha!”

  A little boy in red shorts and a Power Rangers T-shirt stepped up to Murder. “I saw you in the circus,” he said.

  “I saw you there, too,” Murder told him. “In the monkey cage. You were showing off your pink butt! Hahahaha!”

  A large woman in a green sundress and a Tampa Bay Rays cap frowned at Murder. “You’re not funny. You’re making the kids cry.”

  “Your face is making me cry!” Murder shouted. “Hahaha. It’s Murder! MURDER!”

  The crowd liked that. Most people laughed. The two little redheaded boys still hid behind their father.

  “Know why they call me Murder the Clown?” he boomed. “Because I kill! My jokes kill the audience! I murder them! Hahahaha!”

  He pulled off his fake nose and gave it to one of the redheaded boys. “Know why I gave you that nose? Because you smell! Hahaha!”

  I laughed along with the other people. I couldn’t help but laugh. Murder was so mean, he was funny. A few people were upset by his humor. But most of the crowd was still laughing as he picked up my bags and we walked across the parking lot.

  He led the way to a red-white-and-blue circus van. He tossed my suitcases in the back and then turned to me. “It’s all in good fun, kid,” he said. “You’ve got to keep it fun. You don’t want to end up on Clown Street.”

  I tugged at his baggy sleeve. “Uncle Theo, tell me,” I said. “What is Clown Street?”

  “Well —”

  Before he could answer, the father and the two redheaded boys stepped up to us. The father shrugged and motioned to his sons. “They’ve decided they want your autograph,” he told my uncle.

  “Good kids,” Murder said. He reached into the van and pulled out a pen that was three feet long. “Why do I need this pen? Because I have a very long name!” he said.

  The boys laughed.

  Murder pulled out photos of himself and signed them. Then we drove from the bus station to the circus grounds, which were only a few blocks away. He pulled
the van into a parking lot at the back. “Let’s take a walk,” he said. “Give you a chance to see where everything is.”

  The afternoon sun was high in the sky. The back of my neck prickled from the heat as we walked across a grassy square. I wished I had remembered my sunglasses.

  I could see the tall red-and-blue show tent in the distance. In front of us, I saw two long rows of carnival booths. We passed a kiddie merry-go-round and roller coaster.

  The rides were full, and crowds of people, mostly in shorts and T-shirts, jammed the carnival area. “The afternoon show doesn’t start till four,” Uncle Theo said. “But people come early for the carnival games and the food.”

  I suddenly realized I hadn’t eaten since breakfast back home. I pulled Murder to a food booth called Katz’s Dogs. “Two wiener dogs with everything on them,” Murder told the young woman behind the counter. He whispered to me, “They use real dogs. Nothing artificial.”

  After we gobbled our hot dogs, we walked through the carnival area. People waved and pointed at Murder. Some joker shouted, “Do you know you have an axe in your head?”

  Murder slapped his forehead like he was surprised. “No wonder I’m seeing double! Know what I need right now? A banana split! Hahaha!”

  We continued walking. He whispered to me, “Murder. I murder them!”

  At the booth across from us, kids were tossing darts at a wall of balloons. In the next booth, people threw large plastic rings at fish bowls, trying to win goldfish. A wheel-of-fortune booth had huge pink teddy bears as a prize.

  A wide food trailer had a sign on its side: ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT ON A STICK! I took a deep breath and inhaled the aroma of French fries from inside. Nice.

  “I think I’m going to like it here!” I told my uncle.

  Before he could answer, a polka-dot-costumed clown on stilts clomped up to us. “Hey, Short Stuff,” he called down to Murder. “You’d better get out of the sun. Your face is bright red!”

  “You’d better come down from there,” Murder told him. “Your face is scaring the birds!” Murder put a hand on my shoulder. “This is my nephew Ray.” He pointed up to the other clown. “His name is Mr. Funny. Know why we call him that?”

  “Because he’s funny?” I said.

  Murder shook his head. “No. Because that’s his name! Hahahaha!”

  Mr. Funny wobbled on his stilts. “Your uncle is about as funny as an ingrown toenail. No. I’m wrong. He’s about as funny as five ingrown toenails! Welcome to the circus, kid.” He staggered off on the stilts, waving his hands above his head.

  We started to walk again. “I’ll introduce you to the other clowns later,” my uncle said. “We all meet in the food tent an hour before the afternoon show and have snacks and stuff.”

  Two teenage girls racing with cones of cotton candy almost knocked us over. Giggling, they kept running. Murder adjusted the axe on his head. “This thing is heavy,” he complained. “People don’t realize how uncomfortable it is to have an axe in your head.” He grinned. “But … that’s show biz.”

  We passed another Lucky Wheel booth and a shooting gallery. Across from them, I saw a large glass tank filled with water. A clown was perched on a seat high above the water tank. A sign on the front of the tank read: DUNK-A-KLOWN.

  I started toward it. But to my surprise, Uncle Theo grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around. “Keep walking. Just ignore that,” he said. He suddenly sounded tense.

  I tried to turn back to the tank, but he held me in place. “It looks cool,” I said.

  “Stay away from it, Ray. I’m being serious. Let’s just keep walking, okay?”

  What was his problem?

  We started past the tank. I glimpsed the clown again, sitting stiffly on the metal seat. He wore a blond wig that stood straight up over a pale, sad face.

  In front of the tank, a teenage boy was tossing baseballs at a target. As I watched, one of his throws hit the target. A loud buzzer went off. The clown’s chair collapsed.

  The clown raised his hands high above his head as he dropped into the deep water tank. The crowd cheered.

  The clown splashed into the water, sending a tall wave against the glass. I watched him sink to the bottom of the tank. His hands thrashed the water. He struggled to pull himself to the top.

  “Keep walking,” Uncle Theo said. “Don’t look at that.”

  But I heard a loud flushing sound. Like a huge toilet flushing. And I saw the water in the tank start to sink. The clown thrashed the water with his hands and feet as he was sucked down … down … In seconds, the water had drained. The clown had vanished with it. The last thing I saw was his tall blond wig. Then it vanished, too.

  The crowd cheered again. Some people laughed. They thought it was funny. But I wasn’t so sure.

  “Uncle Theo,” I said. “Where did that clown go? Why did he look so frightened?”

  Uncle Theo laughed. “It’s all a gag, Ray. Everything is a joke here. Remember? This is an all-clown circus. You can’t believe what you see. Nothing is real.”

  Nothing is real?

  I stared at the empty water tank. If that wasn’t real, why did the clown struggle so much? And why did he look totally terrified?

  At three o’clock, people were lined up, waiting for the show tent to open. Uncle Theo led me to a smaller tent around the back.

  We had to step around a young woman in a sparkly gold costume who was brushing the back of an elephant with a big shoe brush. The elephant stood perfectly still. But its eyes followed Uncle Theo and me as we passed.

  A bunch of clowns were waiting to greet me outside the food tent. I guessed Uncle Theo had told them about me. They cheered as we came near.

  “A new victim!” one of them yelled.

  “Kid — you’re history! You’re dead meat! Hahaha!”

  “Welcome to Koko’s Klown Academy! You already flunked! Ha-ha!”

  They cheered and laughed at their own jokes.

  “Give the kid a break,” Uncle Theo said. “It’s murder! Murder! You’re killing the kid!”

  They didn’t wait for him to introduce me. Two clowns rushed forward and lifted me off my feet. “Hey — put me down!” I cried. “Where are we going?”

  All the clowns followed, laughing and clapping, as the two clowns carried me on their shoulders around the side of a tent. I saw the trampoline in front of us. They heaved me onto it.

  A very fat clown with a white face, tall pointed hat, and red ruffles over his white clown suit climbed onto the trampoline with me. He began to jump.

  I was bounced hard. I flew into the air. I toppled down, then flew up again.

  “Go, kid, go!”

  “Are you feeling jumpy?”

  The clowns whooped and cheered as I jumped and bounced along with the big clown. “Hey!” I shouted as the fat clown bounced harder. I couldn’t keep my balance. I flew off the trampoline. As I headed for the ground, two clowns caught me and eased me to the grass.

  I struggled to catch my breath.

  The fat clown climbed down. He stood beside me. “How did you like it?”

  “I loved it!” I said. “Can we go again?”

  They all burst out laughing at my answer. They clapped me so hard on the back, I nearly fell over.

  “That’s our welcoming ceremony,” Uncle Theo said. “What do you expect from a bunch of clowns?”

  He introduced me to them. A sad, bald clown dressed as a bum in a ragged brown suit, with tears painted on his cheeks over a thick stubble of beard, was named Tommy Teardrops. The fat clown who bounced with me on the trampoline was Billy Laffs. A woman clown with big red makeup circles on her cheeks, a red Raggedy Ann wig, big red shoes, and a huge butt that had to be two pillows under her long dress, introduced herself as Mrs. Giggle-Wiggle.

  I met at least a dozen clowns. Uncle Theo said, “Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time to learn their names. Let’s eat.”

  We all went into the tent. I saw two rows of long picnic tables and a food table again
st the far tent wall. I lined up with the others and helped myself to a turkey sandwich and a pile of nacho chips.

  A tall clown with a bird’s nest of curly black hair bouncing on his head balanced a banana on his nose. “Hey, has anyone seen my banana?” he shouted.

  “Ray, do you know why he has that banana on his nose?” Billy Laffs asked me.

  “No,” I said.

  “I don’t, either!” Billy replied.

  That got a pretty good laugh from everyone.

  “At least I’m well-balanced,” the tall clown said. “At least I have a-peel!”

  The clowns sat down at the long tables to have their snack. I sat next to Uncle Theo, who had piled his plate high with cookies and pretzels. “My two favorite food groups,” he said.

  The clowns joked and teased one another as they ate. Two clowns at different tables tossed apples back and forth. They started with two apples, but kept adding more until there were five apples flying back and forth in the air.

  Then, suddenly, a hush fell over the tent.

  The apples stopped flying. The clowns went silent.

  I turned to the tent entrance and saw a new clown enter. He wore the red jacket and black top hat of a ringmaster. He was a big man, broad-shouldered, like a body builder.

  His face was painted white. He had black circles around his eyes, a thin mustache under his red clown nose. His mouth was covered in black makeup, twisted into a sneer.

  Uncle Theo bumped me with his elbow. “Shhh,” he whispered. “It’s the boss.”

  I glanced down the table. The other clowns had their eyes down. No one spoke.

  Are they all afraid of him? I wondered.

  Uncle Theo jumped to his feet. “Mr. HahaFace, I’d like you to meet my nephew,” he said.

  The ringmaster’s black boots thudded the ground as he strode across the tent to us. He kept his eyes on me as he walked.

  “Remember? I told you my nephew was arriving for the summer?” Uncle Theo said. “Well, here he is. He’s going to be a junior clown.”

  Mr. HahaFace studied me for a long moment.

  Talk about an awkward silence.