Girl Clown Hatchet: A Novel (Girl Clown Hatchet Suspense Series Book 1)

by Mav Skye

  “And yet you were the one dreaming about a circus.” Mama Nola scolded. “Perhaps you dreamed that I told you I was going to a circus. I’m not the one losing my mind, Ayita.”

  The words stung like a good old fashioned slap. Growing up, Chloe had always had nightmares about being hunted, about clowns with painted faces and hatchets. Sometimes, she had had trouble telling what was a dream and what was real. “Yeah, well crazy seems to run in the family.”

  Mama Nola frowned and squinted. She was ready to battle. “You mentioned clowns. Was it the clown—Mister, uh, Jiggles?”

  “Jingles.” Chloe averted her eyes to the floor. How could she worry so much about her mother’s sanity, when her own was being called into question?

  “Did you see him?” Her mother’s question echoed and echoed in her mind until it turned into the circus music from her jewelry box. She could see the face popping out from the tree, smiling at her. Hissing.

  “Chloe?”

  “Hmmm?” Chloe glanced up to her mother’s piercing eyes. She could see right through Chloe the way Joey could. She hated that she couldn’t keep her emotions secret, much less her thoughts.

  “Did you see Mr. Jiggles?”

  “Jingles.” Chloe took a sip of her tea before answering. “No?”

  “Ayita.”

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  Chloe touched Godzilla, then twisted and twirled her hair, feeling like she was six years old again. “Yesterday, when I was walking home from school. I saw something in the woods, hiding behind the tree.”

  When her mother didn’t respond, Chloe sneaked a peek at her. The old woman stared off into space, then wiped her hands on her apron and said, “Hmmmm...” There was disapproval in her voice.

  “I’m sorry, Etsi. Don’t get mad. I’m not freaking out this time. I promise.”

  “The doctor said if there was another incident...”

  “Please, Mama, no doctor. I’m fine. Really.”

  They never spoke about The Incident, but Chloe knew they were both thinking about it. She didn't really know what The Incident actually was; the trauma had erased the worst of the memories, but she knew it had something to do with Mr. Jingles (who absolutely did not exist, absolutely did not.) It might have had something to do with why Mama Nola and Aunt Tayanita had fought and why they didn't speak to each other anymore. She remembered running away from home, hiding under Mr. Mortimer's trailer, hiding under Mr. Price's porch, and under the work bench in the manager's wood shop. She remembered getting shots at a hospital that made her feel like she was floating upside down on a pillow of clouds, while all the grown-ups murmured about her. The most important thing Chloe remembered about The Incident was that Mr. Jingles was only imaginary—he absolutely did not exist.

  “I think I’m going to go lie down again.”

  Chloe looked at her mother surprised as the old woman dropped her cane, then leaned down to pick it up.

  “Oh, Etsi, let me get that for you.” Chloe grabbed her mother’s arm, then bent down and retrieved the cane.

  “Thank you, Ayita. You’re a good girl.” Chloe helped her mother to her bedroom. She slid her mother’s apron off, and the old woman laid down in bed. Chloe covered her with the sheets and comforter.

  She turned to go, and Mama Nola grabbed her hand. “Ayita?”

  “Yes?”

  “If you see that clown, tell him to go away.”

  Chloe nodded. “I will, Etsi.”

  “Good.” Her voice began to drift. “Maybe after lunch, you can help me in the garden.”

  “Sure, Mama. I think I’ll go to the library this morning. I’ll be back later to get you lunch.”

  “Take my Ohanzee with you, child.”

  Chloe didn’t feel like being around Joey today. She had things on her mind, things she’d prefer to keep to herself, but she agreed to because it would make her mother happy. And more than anything in the world, she wanted her mother to be happy.

  Chloe said, “Sweet dreams.” And quietly closed the door behind her.

  Then she went to her room, picked up her jewelry box and set it next to her shoes in the closet, and tossed a coat over it. If her jewelry box ended up in Mama Nola’s bedroom again, then she’d know for sure who was putting it there.

  4

  Imaginary Friends

  CHLOE WALKED DOWN THE LONG DRIVEWAY, stepping around the potholes that still held rainwater. It wasn’t truly a driveway, but a street that was supposed to hold ten trailers. Some deal had fallen through, and Mama Nola had somehow secured the entire Goose Avenue to herself. It was basically the same story with the other road that split off from Misty, Gander Avenue. Only Joey’s grandfather and the Pratts had gotten some kind of sweet move-in deal.

  Chloe swung herself around the street sign that pointed to Misty Avenue, and went to go down Gander Avenue, when she spotted Mrs. Price in her pink housecoat and rollers looking out her dining room window.

  Most of the local gossip came from her and the things she’d spot with her binoculars when no one else was looking. This morning, her binoculars were trained on Chloe.

  Chloe waved at Mrs. Price, who immediately ducked. Chloe imagined her on her belly beneath her dining table and chuckled. She’d have to tell Joey.

  She wandered down Gander Avenue until it forked again into a mess of trees. There was a trailer on the left of the fork; that one was Joey’s. On the other side, was the Pratts’ home. They had a longer driveway like Chloe’s, and she could barely make out the tin roof from the road. Chloe knew Mrs. Pratt had a full-time waitressing job at Sara’s Diner downtown, and she sometimes saw the (almost) identical twins at the bus stop. Erin and Sharon were both in kindergarten, and Chloe was hoping to get a babysitting job over the summer. They were cute kids, about the same age as Jenn and May, but not nearly as big troublemakers. At least, not yet. Chloe thought about walking over there to introduce herself to Mrs. Pratt and ask about babysitting the twins this summer, but then chickened out and decided to stick to her original plan.

  Joey’s trailer was a double wide in various shades of brown. The trailer blended into the nature around it, or it would have if there weren’t fifteen trash bags sitting in front, waiting to be taken to the dump. An open shed beside the trailer held firewood. Next to that, a rusted lawnmower sat beside two old pickups that had been stripped clean one night when Joey’s grandpa was at Bingo and Joey was at her house.

  Chloe walked up the rotting stairs to the porch and knocked twice on the door, then sat down on the top step to wait. Joey’s grandpa didn’t like company inside. Chloe had learned a long time ago to make herself comfortable outside.

  She tapped her fingers on her legs and leaned over to look through the living room window. The blinds—yellowed from years of cigarette smoke, were half drawn. A brown lazy boy recliner sprawled in the living room, surrounded by tipped over beer bottles on the TV table. She frowned at the sight of the empty beer bottles. Pops was definitely on the juice again.

  She heard a floorboard creak and Chloe sat back just as the door opened. Joey hopped out on one foot while putting a sneaker on the other. “Hey.”

  His voice was quiet, tired, and when she moved over so he could sit down beside her and tie his shoelaces, Chloe noticed a purple bloom on his jaw.

  “Hi,” Chloe hesitated on whether to ask him about it or not. She reached for her Godzilla earring hoping he’d have the answer.

  Joey watched her tug on her ear, and she dropped her hand quickly.

  He said, “What are you looking at?”

  She decided not to say anything about it. At least, not at the moment. “Uhhh—”

  “Well?”

  Chloe said, “It’s just that…it’s like you knew I was coming over.”

  “Of course, I knew.”

  Chloe gave him a puzzled look.

  He shrugged, “I just know. I always know with you. So what are we doing?”

  She stood, pulled a baby blue elastic band off h
er wrist and swept her long dark hair up into a ponytail. “I’m heading up to the library to do some research. Mama Nola wants you to come with me.”

  He finished tying his shoe and skipped down the stairs in that carefree way he had, then ran back up the steps. “Hold up a sec. He disappeared behind the door and popped out again with two root beers. “Pops came home with these last night.” He winked and Chloe took one.

  “Thanks.”

  They started walking down Gander Avenue and they both popped open their sodas.

  He said, “Did you want me to come along?”

  Chloe looked down the Pratt’s driveway and said, “Of course.”

  “Liar, liar pants on fire!”

  Dang it, he always knew. She shrugged. “It’s personal.”

  “Why the library on the first day of summer break?”

  “Why not?”

  Joey took another long gulp of root beer, then burped.

  “Cute.” Chloe rolled her eyes and sipped her root beer.

  He said, “Ohhhh, is this about yesterday? When Mama Nola said she was at the circus the whole afternoon?”

  “Yeah.” Which was true. Chloe wanted to look up her mother’s symptoms to see if her behavior was normal old people stuff or something she needed to call her aunt about.

  “But there’s something else,” Joey said. They reached the end of Gander Avenue and crossed over to Misty.

  “Ugh, how do you know?”

  Joey said in a thundering voice, “I’m psychic!”

  A voice beside them said, “No, you aren’t. Nobody is psychic.”

  Chloe had to laugh when she saw the little brunette girl. “Jenn-Jenn, what are you up to?”

  Her sister, May, ran from their trailer on the corner to a giant rhododendron in Mrs. Price’s lawn. Chloe said, “Were you and May picking on Mrs. Price last night about dinner time? I heard sirens—again.”

  Jenn smiled and scratched her nose. “No, I was leaving a booby trap for Mr. Mortimer’s cat. We caught a skunk instead. So, we put it under her porch for a surprise.”

  “Oh my gosh.” Chloe put her hands over her face, but couldn’t help but laugh along with Joey, who gave Jenn-Jenn a high five.

  “But she hasn’t found it yet.”

  Joey broke out into another bout of laughter.

  Chloe said, “If the Police come out this afternoon, you hide. Promise?”

  “That’s what I always do.” Jenn nodded vigorously. “And don’t worry, May found a Supergirl cape. It makes us invisible.”

  “Even still, you hide. Promise?”

  “Yes.” And then Jenn was running away and dashing under the big rhododendron with her sister, on to their next adventure.

  Mrs. Price stood at the window. She sucked on a cigarette while watching them, her portable phone cradled in the crook of her arm. Chloe was sure she had the Police on speed-dial.

  Joey laughed, “Man, oh, man. Gotta love it around here.” He put his pop can on the ground, stomped on it, then held it up so Mrs. Price could see it was going back in his pocket and not on her lawn.

  She gave him a nasty look and disappeared into the darkness of her home. “I swear that women weighs more than two cars put together.”

  Chloe elbowed him. “Joey, that’s rude.”

  “No, what’s rude is how she spies on every single person here and spreads gossip like wildfire.”

  Mrs. Price’s blue and white trailer was sandwiched between Jenn and May’s falling apart dump and Mr. Mortimer’s old, but tidy, yellow single-wide. He was an old man that liked to mow his lawn every Saturday afternoon and do word puzzles out on his lawn chair every Sunday morning.

  Joey said, “Remember when she called 9-1-1 after someone knocked down the ladder when Mr. Mortimer tried to get his cat out of the pine tree?”

  Chloe laughed, pulling up the vision of the curt and grumpy old man in her head, hanging by a limb. “And he got stuck up there.”

  “And then, Mrs. Price called the fire department to get him down?”

  “And when Jenn and May saw the firetrucks they decided to light the old ghost trailer on fire, so that there would really be a fire?”

  A giggle escaped Chloe’s mouth. “Mrs. Price said Jenn and May had knocked the ladder over, but I think she did it because Mr. Mortimer’s cat poops in her flower bed.”

  They both broke out laughing as they passed Mr. Mortimer’s, and approached the Churches’ residence. The white and orange trailer had bright blue tarps over the roof to keep it from leaking.

  Joey said, “That was a fun night.”

  “Only because they finally got rid of the Ghost of Haunted Trailer.”

  Joey said, “Nah, I still see it sometimes.”

  Chloe punched him in the shoulder. “You do not.”

  “Ow! Yes, I do, only last night I was walking by and—”

  “There’s no reason for you to be walking around that Gosling Circle at night.” Aside from drug dealing, the Penore brothers were a rowdy bunch. Drunken rifle target practice in the dark was a usual occurrence, which included Dan—the Misty Goose Trailer Court manager—calling the police and Mrs. Price calling 9-1-1 to report a shooter on the loose and blood in the road. Since the Misty Goose was in the county and not inside Spindler city limits, half of the Skagit County Sheriff’s department would show up, along with firetrucks and an ambulance.

  “Sure there was; I was talking to Dan about helping him out around here this summer.”

  “Oh, cool.” Despite his beefy build and tattoo sleeves, Dan was an earnest man with a humble spirit. Even when he had to get on a tenant’s case for rent money or playing music too loud, he was impossible not to like. His autistic son, Chris, was a gentle soul much like his father. Mrs. Price had said that a few years back, Dan’s wife had committed suicide while he was in rehab. He had finally chosen his family over drugs and the bottle, but his decision had come too late. He hadn’t touched either substance since.

  The work would be good for Joey.

  Evangelical music burst through the Churches’ screen door—so loud that Chloe couldn’t hear Joey talking. A southern drawl warned his flock of the dangers of fornication. Mrs. Church lived there with her son, Owen. They reminded Joey of Mrs. Bates and Norman in Psycho. He swore up and down he saw them kissing once, but Chloe was pretty sure Joey was just trying to gross her out. At least twice a year, Mrs. Church and Owen made the rounds of the trailer court, passing out WWJD flyers and inviting the community to a special baptizing event. All sinners had a chance to have their sins washed away, so when Jesus came back he’d take the entirety of Misty Goose Trailer Court to heaven instead of striking everyone straight to hell. Chloe wasn’t much interested in living with the Misty Goose’s residents for all eternity, so she had never attended. Nonetheless, the Churches’ gave away plates of (good!) home baked cookies at Christmas, so Chloe still liked them.

  The gospel drawl faded away, and a pleasant silence possessed them as Chloe and Joey left the Misty Goose trailer court, and turned toward town.

  She glanced at Joey, the bruise on his cheek. “Did that ghost decide to knock you one last night?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your jaw, it’s bruised.”

  “Oh, that,” Joey blushed bright crimson, but shrugged like it was no big deal, “the ghost hates it when I put a foot on his burned down dump. I was asking for it.”

  Chloe gave him a look.

  Joey shrugged. “Pops was in a mood last night.”

  “You said he’d stopped.”

  “I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “Oh,” Chloe said, “You should tell someone.”

  Joey snickered. “Been there, done that.”

  “Don’t you want to live in a place where people don’t hit you?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Because then I wouldn’t live next to you. You and Mama Nola are my family.”

  “Maybe you can live with us?”

  “She’s so old. I don’t want
to be a burden.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You wouldn’t be a burd—”

  “No,” Joey said firmly. “I don’t want it to be like that. I want to take care of you two, not the other way around.”

  She touched his arm. “We take care of each other. That’s how it’s always been.”

  Joey shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “But, what if—”

  He cut her off. “Knock-knock?”

  Chloe sighed. This was classic Joey, avoiding anything remotely serious. “Who’s there?”

  “A herd.”

  Chloe rolled her eyes. “A herd who?”

  Joey started cackling before he even finished. “A herd you were home, so I came over!”

  The trees loomed over them as they walked, bathing them in cool shade. Chloe frequently glanced into the woods, looking for the evil clown face. She wished for her Walkman as Joey retold every single knock-knock joke he’d ever read.

  She decided his dorky puns didn’t annoy her today as much as they usually would. It was comforting to hear his voice recite the same old stupid things, especially when there were clowns in the woods. She tensed as they neared where the sidewalk began. She spotted the giant cedar dominating the shadows and slowed, watching intensely.

  “Whatcha looking for?” asked Joey.

  “Oh. I, uh, thought I saw something there yesterday.” She tugged at Godzilla. She wanted to tell him, but he’d just think she was going crazy again. He glanced her way, and she dropped her hand from her ear.

  “Oh yeah, what did you see?”

  He took her empty root beer can, stood it on the road and crunched it to a slim disk. The sun reflected off his copper hair and brought out even more freckles on his face. She wished she could be as carefree about life as he was.

  She said, “If I tell you, promise not to freak out?”

  He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You saw him again didn’t you—Mr. Jingles?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Godzilla tells all.”

  She blushed. He was more than familiar with her nervous habits.