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ClownFellas

Page 13

by Carlton Mellick III


  “Hold it,” Vinnie said, skidding to a stop. “Fall back.”

  When Jean stopped, he nearly tumbled to the ground. He was a sloppy runner. He didn’t seem very experienced at walking on his feet at all, as if he spent all his time every day riding a unicycle. “What’s wrong?”

  Blue Nose realized it was suicide charging them without getting the jump on them first. They had to have killed two of them in the sneak attack to stand a chance against all six.

  “Let them chase us,” Vinnie said.

  “Why? Let’s just attack.”

  “It’ll spread them out. Some of those freaks are fast and some are slow as snails. We let the fast ones come to us first and kill them before the slower ones get to us.”

  “Okay, but we don’t lead them to François,” Jean said. “We lead them away.”

  Vinnie nodded and crossed the street, leading the mutants in a new direction. He was careful to head for a wide-open desolate area. He didn’t want to run into another group of freaks and get attacked on both sides. That was one big problem with Vinnie’s plan. The other was leaving Jimmy Bozo with the wounded juggler. Who knew what the clown prince would do on his own.

  “Here,” Vinnie said when they entered a large crumbling lot.

  “This is no good,” Jean said. “We should lead them into an alley where they’d be forced to fight one or two at a time.”

  “No, our biggest advantage over them is our speed,” Vinnie said, catching his breath and sizing up the mutants approaching them. “An alley would limit our movements and give them the upper hand. We’ll still be able to fight them one or two at a time as long as we don’t let the slow ones catch up.”

  The first mutant to arrive was the tall wiry clown with the knife in his teeth. He giggled as he ran, his long arms stretched out wide enough to hug a truck.

  “I’ll get this one,” Jean said. “You get the next.”

  Vinnie nodded. He ran past the wiry clown and charged the one with the knife in his back. The clown was a brick wall, bulbous muscles and a frizzy green Afro with large black eyes and tiny nose and mouth. A real creeper of a clown, giggling in a little schoolgirl’s voice.

  Blue Nose went straight for his legs, dropping all his weight on the creature’s ankles. The freak crumpled to the ground.

  “Tickle me! Tickle me!” the mutant cried as he rolled in the crumbling asphalt.

  Vinnie lowered the cleaver into the mutant’s face, splitting his nose in two.

  “Tickle me!” The freak grabbed Vinnie by the throat, strangling him with both hands as Vinnie chopped at his distorted face.

  “Tickle me!”

  It took five swings before the freak loosened his grip. Then Vinnie used the meat hook to finish him off.

  “Tickle…,” the mutant said, gargling blood as he died.

  “Go for the legs,” Vinnie said. Their malformed bodies gave them horrible balance.

  But when Vinnie turned around, Jean was in trouble. The mutant clown’s wiry arms were wrapped around the juggler like blue-and-pink-striped boa constrictors. The juggler was lifted off the ground, kicking his feet in the air.

  “Jean!” Vinnie ran to him.

  Vinnie was surprised how helpless the juggler was when he wasn’t on his unicycle working in tandem with his twin brother. Jean and François had trained to become masters at certain fighting techniques, but were completely inept at fighting any other way.

  Before Blue Nose could get to Jean, the wiry clown pulled the Frenchman back toward his mutant friends. It was almost as if the freak knew Vinnie was trying to separate them in order to fight one at a time. The next thing he knew, he was surrounded by the freaks. Four of them boxed in Vinnie as the wiry clown wrapped his rubbery arms around Jean’s neck. The juggler couldn’t even gasp as the life was being squeezed out of him.

  Not only was Vinnie horribly outnumbered, but more freaks were coming into the lot toward him. A large muscled mutant carried a metal rod with one end sharpened. He charged through the lot, aiming it at Vinnie’s head. Although Blue Nose thought there was a solution for every problem, his options had run out. The best he could hope for was taking one or two more of them out with him.

  “Well, that’s the end of that,” Vinnie said.

  His only consolation was the thought that maybe Jimmy Bozo would survive. If he ditched the wounded juggler and took his time sneaking out of The Sideshow, moving just one building at a time, it was possible he could get out of there on his own, even with his wounds. It was unlikely, but possible.

  Surrounded by the giggling fun-house freaks, Vinnie composed himself. He raised his cleaver and meat hook, pointing them at the ferocious maniacs. On his cleaver hand, his wedding ring glistened in the morning sunlight.

  He looked deep into the candy jewels on the gold ring. “I’m sorry, Samantha.”

  As the freaks closed in on him, a spear was hurled into the air. It impaled Big Head through the chest. At first, Vinnie assumed that it was an accident. The mutant running toward him had thrown the spear and had to have been aiming for the trespasser. But then Vinnie saw the hat on the mutant’s head, the clover sticking out the top.

  “Bernie?” Vinnie asked.

  The mutant tipped his hat once at his old boss, then ripped the metal rod out of Big Head’s rib cage. The two of them back-to-back, the other freaks didn’t stand a chance.

  “Where the hell did you come from?”

  “I saw Jimmy’s car wrecked in Sideshow territory,” Bernie said in his distorted mutant voice. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  Vinnie targeted the legs of the freaks as his mutant friend speared them through their giggling faces. When it was only the stretchy freak left, Vinnie came up behind him and cut his throat with the meat hook. Jean fell to the ground, gasping for air. He looked up at Bernie as if he was about to attack.

  “He’s with us,” Vinnie told the French clown. “He used to be a part of my crew.”

  “Even if he was your friend, Sideshow Freaks shouldn’t be trusted,” Jean said. “We should go.”

  Vinnie looked at Bernie. The ogrelike clown looked like he’d been through Hell. His body was caked in dirt and weeds. He smelled like rotting snake eggs and fish oil. Vinnie couldn’t imagine what his old friend must have gone through over the past few years living as a freak in The Sideshow.

  “I’m not like the others,” Bernie said. “I’ve retained most of my sanity.”

  “Let’s just go,” Jean said, cradling his aching throat.

  Bernie looked at Vinnie. “Come with me. I can help you.”

  The juggler shook his head. “You can’t trust him.”

  “It’s not far,” Bernie gurgled.

  Vinnie nodded at the mutant. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 47

  They regrouped with Jimmy and François along the way. The two of them were huddled behind a dumpster a block from where Vinnie left them. Bernie and Little Bozo didn’t look each other in the eyes when they met. It seemed as if the freak didn’t even recognize the clown. Most memories were lost or distorted once a person transformed into a Sideshow Freak. It was possible Bernie didn’t remember how Jimmy had given him the Happy Juice, or even who Jimmy was.

  “I know where there’s a car nearby,” Bernie said.

  “Does it run?”

  “Yes, I’ve tried it. There should be enough gas. But you’ll have to go quickly. There are others who live in the garage where it’s parked.”

  They followed him for five blocks until they reached the garage, only having to hide once when a mutant patrol crossed the railroad tracks.

  “It’s in there,” Bernie said, pointing at the garage with his spear. “Go quickly.”

  “You’re not coming?” Vinnie asked.

  “If they see me helping you they’ll kill me. Just open the garage door and the car will be there. The others are on the other side of the building. If you’re fast they won’t see you.”

  Vinnie looked up at Bernie. His o
ld friend had a drooping frown on his clown face. He was the most miserable-looking creature Blue Nose had ever seen.

  “How have you been, Bernie?” Vinnie asked in a soft voice.

  Bernie broke eye contact. “Just go.”

  Vinnie wasn’t ready to leave. “I never would have guessed that you’d have held on to your sanity like this. I figured your mind would have been gone, turning you into a wild animal, like the others. If I’d have known…”

  Bernie put his lumpy white hand on his old friend’s shoulder. “Don’t, Vinnie. It’s okay.”

  “What has it been like for you living out here?”

  “It’s been a living hell. What do you think? Just get out of here while you still can.”

  Bernie turned away.

  “Thanks for helping us,” Vinnie said. “I’ll never be able to repay you.”

  When Vinnie turned to head toward the garage, he let his guard down. Just for a second. But it was long enough so that he didn’t see it coming. Bernie spun around and plunged that jagged metal rod of his right into Jimmy Bozo’s stomach.

  “You already have repaid me, Vinnie,” Bernie said, laughing maniacally as Jimmy puked blood into the air. “You let me finally get my revenge on that worthless bastard.”

  Jimmy fell to the street, grabbing at the pole sticking out of his guts.

  “You son of a bitch, Bernie,” Vinnie said. “I trusted you.”

  “I wasn’t lying about the car,” Bernie said as he backed away. “Even though you let Jimmy do what he did to me I’ll always consider you my friend.” Before he turned and ran away he said, “I’ll see you in Hell, Jimmy!”

  The cackling filled the streets as the freak with the clover in his hat fled the scene.

  “Come on.” Vinnie pulled the metal rod out of Jimmy’s belly and put pressure on the wound as he lifted him off the ground. “We need to get to a doctor fast.”

  They went into the garage, hopped into the old Buick, and hauled ass out of The Sideshow. Once back in the civilized area of Little Bigtop, Vinnie sped through morning traffic, running red lights, and forcing pedestrians to jump out of the way.

  “Where are you going?” Jean cried. “The hospital isn’t in this direction.”

  “We don’t have time to make it to the hospital.”

  “Then where the hell are we going?”

  “I know a doctor who doesn’t live far from here. Well, he’s not exactly a doctor. He’s a veterinarian.”

  “A veterinarian?” Jean cried.

  “Don’t worry,” Vinnie said. “He’s one of the best. And he’s on the Bozo Family payroll, so we won’t have to deal with the cops.”

  “Are you insane? I won’t put my brother’s life in the hands of a vet.”

  “Then find your own way to the hospital.”

  Vinnie wouldn’t be persuaded otherwise. The boss’s son was bleeding out fast. There wasn’t enough time to second-guess his actions.

  Chapter 48

  Earl Berryman almost had a heart attack when the group of blood-drenched clowns burst through the front door of his apartment. He was standing there in his pajamas, eating a bowl of cornflakes that dropped from his hands and shattered on the kitchen floor when he saw the son of Don Bozo being carried inside.

  “Mr. Blue Nose?” Earl asked. “What are you doing here?”

  “You have to help him,” Vinnie said.

  Jean and Vinnie carried the bleeding clown to the vet’s dining room table. Jean cleared the table with one sweep of his arm, knocking the children’s breakfast onto the floor.

  “Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?” Earl asked.

  “There’s no time. You have to save him. Do you have your medical equipment here?”

  “Yeah, but my kids are getting ready for school,” Earl said. “They can’t see this.”

  “Forget about them,” Vinnie said. “Tell them to stay in their rooms. You have to concentrate. This is the boss’s son that’s dying over here. You don’t want to be responsible for his death.”

  Earl looked over at the hallway to see his three daughters were already peeking in on the commotion. Their clown mother was standing behind them, blowing bubbles into the air.

  “Take them to your room,” Earl told his wife. “Then get me my bag.”

  The woman nodded and giggled. Her bright-red lips pursed as she blew bubbles at her concerned daughters.

  “Get to work,” Vinnie said. “He’s not the only patient we have for you.”

  The vet examined Jimmy Bozo and said, “We’re going to need a blood donor.”

  “I’m type O,” Vinnie said. “You can take mine.”

  Then Vinnie and Jean went to the car to get the other patient.

  Chapter 49

  When there was nothing left that Vinnie could do to help, Earl Berryman told him to wait outside.

  “I’ve done all I can,” Earl said. “It’s up to them now.”

  Vinnie looked down at the clown prince. He’d never seen Jimmy in such a sorry state. The young Bozo had gotten closer to death than he’d ever gone before. Blue Nose hoped the guy learned something from the ordeal. He wasn’t indestructible. He had to use caution or the next time would be his last.

  Outside, Vinnie lit up a blue raspberry cigarette and walked over to the Frenchman, who was waiting with the same impatient look that Vinnie’d had all morning.

  “The doctor said your brother will likely pull through,” Vinnie said, offering him a cigarette. “He’s one tough bastard.”

  Vinnie lit the cigarette for him.

  “You’re damn right he is,” Jean said. “When he was four years old, his nose was bitten off by a stray dog. He didn’t cry or complain after it happened. Instead, he quietly chased the dog down and bashed its head in with a brick. Can you believe that? When our father asked him what had happened, he just said, ‘My nose fell off.’ Like it was a shoe or something. Just a little thing that he didn’t even need.”

  Vinnie nodded. “He’s quite a character.”

  He could tell that François was the stronger of the two brothers. Without him, Jean would’ve been lost. Just looking at how shaken up the juggler was, Vinnie knew that had François died, half of Jean would’ve died with him.

  “So what do we do now?” Vinnie asked. “Are we going to go back to killing each other two weeks from now or can we resolve this peacefully?”

  Jean thought about it for a minute before speaking. He said, “You might have nearly killed my brother, but you also saved his life. We have no quarrel with you.”

  “And what about Jimmy?”

  Jean inhaled his cigarette so loud Vinnie could hear the sucking sound. Then he exhaled in an annoyed moan. “I’m sorry, but Jimmy Bozo must die. He killed my dear cousin Pierre. This cannot be forgiven.”

  “If you kill Jimmy it will be all-out war between the two families. Little Bigtop will become a war zone. Is that what you really want?”

  “It’s blood for blood. It is only fair.”

  “But how many others will have to die? Don Bozo will not rest until you and your brother pay for the murder of his son.”

  “Then so be it,” Jean said, tossing his cigarette in the street. “If it must come to war, my people are ready.”

  Vinnie shook his head. He didn’t understand why everyone had to be so stubborn all the time. “Then I guess the next time we meet, I’m going to have to kill you.”

  As Jean walked up the steps to return to his brother’s bedside, he turned to Vinnie and said, “Tell me, Blue Nose. Why do you risk your own life to protect that worthless son of a bitch? I see it in your eyes. You want him dead just as much as I do.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Vinnie said. “I owe that man everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “No matter how much trouble that idiot causes, I’ll always back him up.”

  Chapter 50

  It was the night Jimmy Bozo was promoted to capo. All of the Bozo Family was gathered together at U
ncle Jojo’s estate, and the party was hopping. Vinnie arrived in his nicest blue suit with his wife on his arm. Samantha, as always, felt uncomfortable being the only vanilla in a crowd of clowns.

  “I only have to make an appearance and then I can leave, right?” Samantha asked as they traversed the crowd of drunken clowns.

  “Yeah,” Vinnie said. “Just get a strong drink, say hi to the other wives, make a little small talk, then come up with some excuse to leave early. It’ll take ninety minutes tops.”

  Samantha sighed with relief. “Are you sure you’re okay with me leaving you here by yourself?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Vinnie said. “If it was any other event I would leave with you, but it’ll look disrespectful if I don’t stay. I’m one of the few supporters of Jimmy’s promotion.”

  Samantha nodded. She’d been with him enough to know his job came first. She’d learned to live with that.

  “Vinnie!” Jimmy Bozo yelled from across the party. He charged through the crowd to get to him, a goblet of whiskey in his hand. The clown was already clearly drunk, staggering over his giant feet. “Vinnie, you stuck-up blue bastard. Where you been?”

  “I was picking up my wife,” Vinnie said. “Have you met Samantha?”

  Jimmy grabbed her by the hand and squished his red nose into her knuckles to kiss her fingers like she was some kind of princess. “How did such a boring prick like you win yourself a gorgeous dame like her?”

  “A pleasure to meet you,” Samantha said, wiggling her hand away from the drunken clown.

  Jimmy leaned into Vinnie’s chest. “I’m finally rid of you, you son of a bitch. No more of your bullshit orders. No more managing who I keep on my crew. I’m my own man now, Blue Nose. I’m a capo, same as you.”

  Then the clown prince wandered away to attack the busty clown waitress carrying a platter of drinks.

  “So that’s what you had to deal with these past few years?” Samantha asked.

 

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