ClownFellas Page 3

  “That sounds delicious.”

  “We know you’re just a veterinarian there to perform an operation on the circus lion. We know this means you’ll be getting very close to Don Bozo. That’s why we chose you. He’ll never see it coming from a guy like you.”

  “You don’t want me to…”

  “I told you to remain calm. Don’t say anything that I don’t tell you to say. But you’re right. We want you to kill Bozo.”

  “But…but how could I…”

  “Don’t speak. I’ll tell you how. If you follow my instructions you’ll be able to succeed at this task and your family will live. In your possession you should have a large dose of sodium thiopental intended for the lion’s anesthesia. If I am correct, say What do you want for dessert? I’ll pick it up on the way home.”

  “What do you want for dessert?” Earl didn’t bother saying the rest.

  “The first chance you get, I want you to inject Bozo with the stuff. It’ll be enough to put him into a coma, then he’ll die in his sleep. Use your phone to take a picture of his body and send it to me. Then figure a way out of there. If you understand, say I’ll see you tonight.”

  Earl didn’t say it.

  “Say I’ll see you tonight.”

  Earl looked behind him. Captain Spotty was leading a group of three clowns into the auditorium toward him. He wasn’t sure if any of them was the boss.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” Earl said.

  “When we get the picture, we’ll let your family go,” said the Frenchman. “You have one hour. Say I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Berryman. I really am. If we were able to get close enough to Don Bozo we would have done it ourselves. But he’s just too well protected. It’s in your hands now. Remember, if you ever want to see your wife and children again, Don Bozo has to die.”

  Earl watched the clowns as they came toward him. None of the guys with Spotty were the boss. They were the boss’s bodyguards. Large clowns the size of bodybuilders, armed with .38s and caramel apples. Even if Earl succeeded in killing Bozo, there was no way he was getting out of there alive. The boss’s men would take him down before he got ten feet to the door. He was beyond fucked.

  The Frenchman said, “Say Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye,” he said, but the Frenchman was already gone. Earl was on his own.

  Chapter 8

  Earl’s hands shook as he returned his phone to his pocket. His wife, his daughters, they were being held captive at gunpoint, their lives riding on him succeeding at something he couldn’t possibly accomplish. He wondered what was going through their heads at that very moment. Were they scared? Confused? Was his wife keeping their daughters calm or was she heightening their anxiety? One thing was for sure, if they all made it out of there alive Laurie was going to be pissed. That woman was not someone you ever wanted to see pissed.

  But strangely enough, the thought of how angry his wife would be only made Earl smile. He had no idea why, but he liked her when she was angry. It was how he fell in love with her in the first place.

  Back when he was in grad school, working toward a degree in wildlife medicine, he had a part-time job making corned beef sandwiches at a bagel shop and deli. The waiter kept moaning about this girl who wouldn’t stop yelling at him.

  “First, she’s pissed that we’re out of lox and whitefish salad. Then she’s pissed that we don’t take credit cards. She complains about the smell. Then she demands to switch tables because the one she was at was supposedly covered in poppy seeds and cream cheese, but it looked spotless to me. I’m telling you, the girl’s a grade-A bitch.” Then the waiter dropped everything to go out back and smoke a cigarette even though it wasn’t his break time.

  Earl nearly dropped the pastrami on the floor when a woman walked up behind him and said, “Where’s that lazy waiter with my food? I’ve been waiting out there for fifteen minutes!”

  When he turned around, he saw a woman who did not match her grating voice. She had short, curly hair tucked behind horn-rimmed glasses, and dark-blue eyes he could swim inside.

  Earl couldn’t believe the nerve of the woman. “What are you doing back here? You’re not allowed in the kitchen.”

  “I’m going to be late getting back to work. I’ve never had to wait this long for lunch in my life.”

  Earl wasn’t used to dealing with customers. He worked in the kitchen for a reason. “It’s busy at this time of day. We’re short-staffed.”

  “Save your excuses. Is my food ready yet or not?”

  Earl looked at his orders on deck. “Which one is yours?”

  She walked right up to him and pointed at the ingredients on his sandwich assembly line. “I had the tuna salad on a jalapeño bagel. How hard is that? It should have taken you five minutes tops.”

  Earl hadn’t even started on her bagel yet. “I’ve got four orders to do before yours. I haven’t gotten to it yet.”

  “Are you kidding me? I don’t have time for that. Give me the soup for free. What kind of soup do you have?”

  “It’s cabbage borscht.”

  “Give me some of that and some of the house-made pickles.”

  “I don’t have the authority to do that. Just go back to your seat. You’re slowing me down.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me? What’s your name? I’m going to get you fired for talking to me like that.”

  “It’s Earl. And go ahead and get me fired. I don’t like this job anyway.”

  “Earl? What kind of name is Earl?”

  “Seriously, go back to your seat. You’re not allowed back here.”

  “Give me the soup and I’ll leave.”

  “Fine, take the soup,” Earl said.

  He poured her a bowl of soup and scooped some pickles onto a plate.

  “And an éclair. I like those éclairs.”

  “Whatever you want.” He didn’t question it. He pulled an éclair out of the case and gave it to her.

  “Thanks, Earl,” she said. “At least now I’ll get to eat something before I go back to work. I’ll take the sandwich to go when it’s ready.”

  Earl was furious. He rolled his eyes and went back to making sandwiches. She was even worse than the waiter said she was.

  But then something happened. Before the girl left, she put something in his back pocket. Earl thought it might’ve been payment for the food she asked for, but he had no idea why she’d pay for something after demanding to get it for free. When he pulled out the slip of paper, he saw her name and phone written on it. She wanted him to call her.

  “Are you serious?” he said, looking back. But the woman was gone. Through the whole unpleasant experience, he had no idea she’d been flirting with him.

  At first, he didn’t want to call her. The girl seemed like trouble. Who’d ever want to date somebody like that? But he admitted to himself that he did find her attractive and admired her audacity. So he gave her a call and they went out on a date. Two years later they were married.

  As Earl thought back on his life with Laurie, all those times she got mad at him for inconsequential matters or embarrassed him when she was angry in public, he just laughed out loud. Then tears rolled down his cheeks. No matter how annoying she was to other people who had the misfortune of meeting her, Earl absolutely loved that woman with all his heart.

  “What the hell’s wrong with you?” Captain Spotty said when he saw the vet’s face.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Earl said.

  Then he wiped his tears away. He couldn’t handle the thought of anything happening to his wife and children.

  Chapter 9

  The three bodyguard clowns searched Earl’s medical case and then patted him down. It showed the boss was thorough. Even with an ordinary guy like Earl, he couldn’t be too careful.

  “Let’s go,” said Captain Spotty, leading Earl into the back. The three guards followed.

  Earl tried to keep his hand from shaking as he carried his c
ase down the hall. He had no idea how he was going to give a lethal injection to the boss clown with these goons surrounding him.

  “Be on your best behavior,” Spotty said. “The boss is in a foul mood today.”

  Earl nodded.

  Spotty saw his lips trembling. “And stop being so antsy. You look like a rat wearing a wire. Relax. You’ll do fine.”

  But Earl couldn’t help it. By the time he entered the boss’s office and saw the big man in person, the vet’s neck was dripping with sweat. One look at him and the boss was immediately displeased.

  “This is the guy who’s supposed to heal my darling Happytooth? This sorry excuse for a prick?”

  Don Bozo was an intimidating figure with his keg-sized belly, bushy fire-red eyebrows, and a Dominican cigar hanging out of his bulldoglike jowls. He sat behind his desk, eating sausages with a serving fork. He didn’t bother to remove his cigar as he ate.

  “You wanted the best doc at the zoo,” Spotty said. “They said he’s the best.”

  “He ain’t even a clown,” said the boss. “How’s a vanilla vet going to save a clown’s lion?”

  “There ain’t no clown vets at the Bronx Zoo,” Spotty said. “There ain’t no clown vets anywhere for that matter.”

  “Well, I don’t trust him.” Don Bozo shoved the rest of the plate of sausages down his gullet. “The man makes me nervous.”

  Spotty saw that Earl Berryman was shaking in his boots, even worse than before. He whispered into his ear, “I told you to relax. Be a man for cryin’ out loud.”

  Earl wiped the sweat from his brow and tried to suck it up.

  Bozo rolled his eyes. “Christ, the putz can’t even stand up straight. How’s he going to hold a scalpel while he’s shaking like that?”

  “He says he’s coulrophobic,” Spotty said.

  “Callya what?”

  “Coulrophobic. You know, he’s scared of clowns.”

  The boss’s bushy eyebrows shot up to the top of his thick white forehead. “Then what the hell is he doing in Little Bigtop? Get rid of him. Come back with a doctor who’s got some balls.”

  Captain Spotty looked at Earl, then back at the boss. He shrugged and grabbed the vet by the elbow. “If you say so. Come on, Doc. You blew it.”

  As Spotty escorted him toward the door, Earl panicked.

  “Wait,” Earl yelled, shoving away from the shabby clown. “You’ve got to let me do it.”

  The boss nearly choked on his sausages when the vet charged toward his desk. The large clowns grabbed him. “Is this guy for real? Who’s he think he is coming at me like that?”

  “I’m sorry, but I need this job,” Earl said, putting his finger in the boss’s face. “And you’re not going to find anyone in the whole state with half as much surgical experience as I have with large felines. You’d have to fly in somebody from Florida. And by then, it might be too late.”

  Bozo spit his cigar at the vet. “Get your finger out of my face before you lose it, shrimp.”

  Earl lowered his hand but didn’t stand down.

  Spotty came forward. “He’s already here, boss. You might as well have him take a look at Happytooth. See how long she has.”

  Bozo leaned back, staring the vet in the eyes. “Well, I guess the vanilla’s got more balls than I thought.”

  “So can I do my job or what?” Earl asked.

  The boss stood up from his seat. His massive belly flipped over the empty plate and spilled gravy all over the desk. “Fine, we’ll give him a shot.”

  Earl let out a sigh and nearly fell to his knees. He couldn’t believe he’d actually gone through with that.

  Bozo wobbled toward the door. “Come with me.”

  Chapter 10

  The boss took Earl to the animal shelter on the other side of the building. The place was like an indoor zoo, filled with all manner of circus animals. A yellow-haired clown woman scrubbed the backside of an elephant in a tutu. The confined creature trumpeted at them as they passed its cage. A zebra kicked over a bucket of its own feces into their path while an old clown janitor tried to sweep out its enclosure. Earl didn’t like seeing the animals in such small confines. They didn’t seem exactly neglected, but they didn’t look happy, either. It was obvious they were in need of a proper caretaker and a proper habitat.

  “These are my children,” said Don Bozo as they passed the giraffes, the seals, the ball-balancing bear. “I’ve raised them since they were just pups.”

  As they walked, the boss made balloon animals. He pumped them full of air then twisted them into shape, sculpting them to match each animal they passed. When they came to the ponies, he made a balloon pony. When they came to an ostrich, he made a balloon ostrich. But these weren’t ordinary balloon animals. Once Bozo twisted them into shape, the creatures came to life. They fell to the floor and walked around, sniffing at Earl’s heels.

  “They need more space,” said the vet, kicking a balloon pony out of his way.

  “Don’t worry about them,” said the boss, dropping a balloon boa constrictor on the ground. “They got plenty of room when we let them go in the field out back. They’re better taken care of than most animals in the circus.”

  The balloon snake coiled around Earl’s leg and squeezed. He couldn’t pry the thing loose. Captain Spotty had to pop it with his pointy green fingernail to get it off. The boss didn’t notice.

  “At least they’re well fed,” Earl said, as they passed a morbidly obese kangaroo sitting like a drunken couch potato inside a tractor tire.

  The lion was at the end of the line, away from the other animals. She had her own private room. A pink sign on the door read HAPPYTOOTH. Inside, it was like a luxury hotel suite. The beast even had a heart-shaped king bed to sleep in. The boss obviously spoiled the creature like he would his own daughter. He probably loved her even more than his real kids.

  “There she is,” Bozo said with a sigh. “My poor, sweet little girl.”

  The lion was lying on a rug on the other side of the bed. She was medicated and hooked up to an IV drip. One side of the animal’s face was so swollen that her eye was squeezed shut.

  “Have you ever seen a sadder sight?” the boss said.

  Earl nodded. “I’d like to examine her now if possible.”

  “Of course, Doc. Of course.” Bozo turned to his men. “All you mugs outside, on the double.”

  “But boss…,” a bodyguard said.

  “The doc’s scared of clowns. I don’t want him any more nervous than he already is.”

  “You really want us to leave you alone with this guy?” another guard said.

  “He’s just a vet. What could he possibly do to me?”

  “Come on, move it,” Spotty said, pushing the three brick-wall-sized clowns out the door.

  The boss grumbled at his men. “Ya buncha lousy bums. Think I can’t take care of myself? Who do you think I am?”

  When the door closed and Earl was alone with Don Bozo, the boss gave him a stern look.

  He said, “So you think you can save her, Doc?”

  Earl glanced over at the lion. “Yeah, I do. It looks worse than it is. Once I cut it out, she’ll be right as rain.”

  The boss’s demeanor suddenly changed. It took Earl by surprise. All of a sudden, a droopy frown appeared on Bozo’s face and his white bulldog jowls trembled.

  “Oh, thank God!” Bozo cried.

  Then the big man burst into tears. He wrapped his flabby arms around Earl and squeezed him into his belly, bawling his eyes out. It was as though he’d bottled up his emotions that whole time, trying to act tough in front of his men, only now letting them all out.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Doc,” the boss sobbed, squishing his big red nose into Earl’s shoulder. “She’s all I have in the world.”

  Earl didn’t know what to do but pat the clown’s back with one hand. He wasn’t expecting the hardened criminal to get so emotional on him. It was enough to make him feel sorry for the guy.

 
Chapter 11

  As Earl opened his case of equipment, Bozo hummed a clown lullaby, stroking Happytooth’s fluffy mane while the animal purred like a buzz saw. The boss’s back was turned. Earl knew it was the perfect time to strike, but he wasn’t mentally prepared to go through with it. As he filled the syringe with sodium thiopental, he wondered if there was any other way out of his situation. He had a little over half an hour to send a photo of a dead clown to the Frenchman or his family was done for. He thought about telling the mob boss about his situation, try to get his help to save his family, but he couldn’t risk Bozo turning him down and throwing him out on his ass. There was also the police, but what good would they do? They’d just get his family killed. His best option was to follow the Frenchman’s orders, even if there was little chance of him saving himself. With those guards outside the door, all he could hope to do was send the picture to his wife’s phone before they plugged him.

  “Don’t worry, Happytooth. He’s gonna fix you up good as new.” Bozo wiped a tear from his cheek and turned to Earl. “Almost ready there, Doc?”

  “Yeah,” Earl said, holding the massive needle in the air.

  When the boss turned back to the lion, Earl lunged at the clown and stuck him with the syringe.

  “What the fuck?” Bozo cried. His tone changed from sad to livid.

  After he was done pumping the fluid into the clown’s arm, Earl jumped away seconds before the boss could grab him by the throat.

  “What the hell is this shit?” asked the boss, looking down at the needle sticking out of his arm.

  Earl’s hands were so shaky he could hardly hang on to his phone as he dug it out of his pocket. He switched it to camera mode and pointed it at the boss, waiting for the big man to fall over.

  But the boss clown stayed standing.

  “Are you freakin’ kidding me?” Bozo asked.

  Something was wrong.

  “Why are you still upright?” Earl cried. “I injected you with enough sodium thiopental to put down a cow.”

  The boss pulled out the needle. “You didn’t inject me with shit.”