Lois glanced at Joe, sitting on the other side of her, and hoped he would add something to Brian’s comment.
Joe was silent. With a silly grin plastered on his face, he reached for the tray of fresh vegetables, grabbed a cherry tomato, poked a hole in one end, then stuck the whole thing on the tip of his nose. “How’s this for a new clown face?” he asked with a chuckle. He reached into the tray again and withdrew two cucumber slices. He cut a hole in each one then placed them over his ears. Next he grabbed a carrot and stuck that in his mouth. “What’d ya think ub this?” he mumbled.
Everyone but Brian laughed at Joe’s silly antics. “If you don’t want to discuss our mother’s problems, that’s fine—but let’s not make these folks think you’re ready for the loony bin as well,” Brian said.
The carrot dropped to his plate as Joe opened his mouth. “I don’t think we should be having this discussion right now. Today’s Thanksgiving, and we ought to be concentrating on having a good time and being thankful for all we have, instead of talking about someone who made her peace with God and isn’t here to defend herself.”
Joe’s face was as red as the tomato still dangling from his nose, and Lois wondered what she could do to help ease the tension. She offered up a quick prayer then reached over and took his hand. “Maybe after dinner you can do one of your juggling routines. In the meantime, how about slicing that turkey before we all starve?”
Joe snatched both cucumbers off his ears and the tomato from his nose and placed them on the edge of his plate. Without another word, he grabbed the knife and stuck it into the bird.
Joe’s insides were churning like a blender running on full speed. How dare his brother air their family’s dirty laundry in front of Lois and her relatives! If he hadn’t been trying so hard to keep his emotions in check, he might have shouted at Brian to shut up and eat, rather than make himself look foolish by putting on a vegetable clown face. Lois probably thought he was the one with a mental problem. Keeping control of his emotions was important to Joe. If he acted on his feelings, he might flip out, the way Mom had on more than one occasion.
Joe found himself beginning to care more and more for Lois, and he didn’t want to turn her off by losing his cool—or by revealing too much about his family. Making a joke out of things was the only way he knew how to cope with the unpleasant things in life. It was better than turning to drugs or alcohol, as Brian had when he was a teenager. Joe hoped his brother had given up those bad habits, but after today it was obvious he still hadn’t learned to control his tongue.
Many times when they were growing up Brian had blurted out something to someone about their mother and her mood swings. Joe had tried then to talk to him about keeping their family affairs quiet, but his little brother seemed to take pleasure in letting everyone know their mother had a serious problem. When Brian finally graduated from high school and left home, Joe hated to admit he was relieved. At least his brother could no longer talk about their personal lives. Joe felt a sense of duty to Mom and had continued to live with her until she died. In all that time, he’d never told anyone about her problem with extreme mood swings or discussed the way it had made him feel.
“When’s your next performance, Joe?”
Seth’s question drew Joe out of his reflections, and he smiled and passed him the plate of turkey. “I’m scheduled to do one tomorrow at the Tacoma Mall. It’s part of the pre-Christmas festivities, and I’ll be making some balloon animals to give out to the children who visit Santa.”
“Sounds pretty corny if you ask me,” Brian muttered. “If I had a choice, I’d choose driving in and out of traffic all day rather than spend five minutes with a bunch of runny-nosed, rowdy kids.”
All eyes were focused on Brian. Joe knew Tabby and Seth were expecting a baby in the spring and that Lois loved kids. He could only imagine what Lois and her family must think of his self-centered brother.
“Kids and laughter are what makes the world go around,” Joe said. “I love working with the little tykes because they spread happiness, peanut butter, and chicken pox.”
Brian frowned. “Humph! And that coming from someone who’s a big kid himself! You were always Mom’s funny little boy, full of jokes and wisecracks, and never wanting to rock the boat or make any waves.”
Joe inhaled sharply. He thought about telling Brian he’d made up a new beatitude: “Blessed are they who have nothing nice to say and can’t be persuaded to say it.”
Just then Seth spoke up.
“The turkey is great, Lois. You really outdid yourself.”
“Yes, everything tastes wonderful,” Tabby agreed.
Lois smiled, and her face turned pink. “Thanks.”
Joe patted his stomach. “They’re right; the meal was terrific. In fact, tomorrow I’ll probably have to go on a diet.” He winked at Lois. “Whenever I have to start applying my clown makeup with a paint roller, I know it’s time to lose weight.”
Everyone, except Brian, laughed at Joe’s joke. He was eating mashed potatoes at lightning speed. That’s okay, Joe mused. Brian never did appreciate a good pun. Maybe I should try another one and see if that gets any response.
“You look kind of stressed out, Brian. Must be ready for those tasty desserts Tabby brought, huh?”
His brother’s forehead wrinkled, but he remained silent.
Joe chuckled. “Stressed spelled backwards is desserts.”
Again, everyone but Brian laughed. Instead he narrowed his eyes at Joe. “You’re really sick, you know that? I don’t see how anyone as beautiful and intelligent as Lois could put up with you clowning around all the time.”
Brian’s words pierced Joe. He wondered if Lois felt the same way about his silliness. If she did, she’d never said anything. In fact, she was learning to be a clown herself, so that must mean she liked his goofy ways and wanted to be more like him—didn’t it?
Chapter 20
As Lois put away the last of the clean dishes from their Thanksgiving meal, her mind wandered. Joe’s brother had revealed some important things about their past, including that their mother had suffered with a mental illness. Could that be why Joe was reluctant to talk about his family? Maybe it was also why Joe showed only his silly side. Lois had a hunch Joe had a lot of pain bottled up inside and for some reason was afraid to let it out. She wondered what it would take to break down the walls he’d built up. She wished he’d stayed around after the others left, but he was the first person to say he needed to leave.
Lois had no idea why Joe needed to go home, since today was a holiday and he had no clowning engagements scheduled. She’d tried to talk to him for a few minutes in front of her apartment building, but he’d hurried away, mumbling something about the ocean calling to him.
She sank into a chair at the kitchen table and closed her eyes. She could still picture Joe sitting at her dining room table during dinner, leaning slightly forward. His pinched face and forced smile betrayed the tension he must have felt when Brian began talking about their mother’s condition.
“Dear Lord,” Lois prayed, “I think Joe is deeply troubled and needs Your help. Please show me if there’s something I can do.”
Joe had intended to go home after he left Lois’s, but he couldn’t face his empty house tonight. Not when he had Mom on his mind. He drove past the Olympia exit and headed toward the coast. Maybe he would feel better after some time at the beach. A blast of salt sea air and the cold sand sifting into his sneakers would get him thinking straight again. So what if he only had the clothes on his back and no toothbrush? If he stayed more than a day he could buy what he needed.
“Lord, I’ve blown it with Lois,” Joe prayed. “I could see by the look on her face during dinner that she’s fed up with me. Did hearing about Mom’s problems turn her off, or was she irritated because I wouldn’t hang around and talk?”
Joe’s stomach ached from holding back his feelings. He wanted to pull his truck to the side of the road, drop his head onto the steering wheel, and
let the tears that had built up through the years spill over like water released from a dam. He couldn’t, though. He had to keep driving until the Pacific Ocean came into view. He needed to drown out the past. Joe didn’t care that by leaving town he’d have to cancel the performance he was scheduled to give at the Tacoma Mall the next afternoon. So what if they never asked him to do another clowning routine? Right now he didn’t care if he ever worked again.
Lois hadn’t heard anything from Joe since Thanksgiving, and now it was Friday of the following week. She’d been tempted to call several times but decided she should give him more time to make the first move.
She turned off her computer and was about to call it a day when the pastor’s wife entered her office.
“How are things going, Lois?” she asked. “Do you and your clown friend have big plans for the weekend?”
“It’s going okay here at work.” Lois swallowed against the knot in her throat. “I haven’t heard from Joe all week, and frankly I wonder if he will ever call again.”
Norma Hanson slipped into the chair beside Lois’s desk. “Would you like to talk about it?”
Lois hesitated then took a deep breath. “I found out Thanksgiving that his mother had severe mood swings, and he acted strange after his brother blurted out the information.” She sighed. “I think Joe’s past might have something to do with the way he makes light of everything.”
The pastor’s wife handed Lois a tissue from the box on her desk. “Does Joe’s humor bother you?”
Lois smiled through her tears. “Actually, I think he’s been good for me, and his joking has helped me learn to relax and have a good time.” She paused. “I just wish he could show his serious side, too. If he even has one, that is.”
The older woman nodded. “I’m sure he does. Maybe he needs more time. Perhaps as your friendship grows, he’ll open up to you more.”
“I hope so, Mrs. Hanson.” Lois reached for her purse. “Well, I mustn’t take up any more of your time.”
“I’m glad to listen anytime and even offer an opinion if you ask,” she said, smiling. “Before you go, though, let’s have a word of prayer.”
A whole week at the beach, and Joe still felt as if his world were tilting precariously. He couldn’t afford to spend any more nights in a hotel, and it wasn’t warm enough to pitch a tent on the sand. Besides, he was expected to perform at his home church on Sunday morning. It was bad enough he’d missed the mall program right after Thanksgiving. He certainly wouldn’t feel right about leaving Pastor Cummings in the lurch. Especially when his clowning skit was supposed to be the children’s sermon for the day and coincide with the pastor’s message.
With his mood matching that of the overcast sky, Joe climbed into his pickup on Saturday morning and headed home.
On Sunday morning, he was still struggling with feelings he kept pushing down. He was determined to put on a happy face and act as if nothing were wrong.
Checking to see that his chaps were in place and donning his floppy red cowboy hat, he entered the sanctuary through a side door near the pulpit.
“Howdy, pardners!” Joe shouted as he sprinted onto the platform, twirling a rope over his head. “Anyone know what the rope said to the knot?”
When no one responded, Joe said, “You’re naughty!”
Several children in the front row giggled, and Joe winked at them. “Today we’ll be talking about witnessing and inviting our friends to church,” he announced. “I’ll need a helper, though. Any volunteers?”
A few hands shot up, and Joe pointed to a young boy. “What’s your name?”
“Billy,” the boy told him.
“Well, come on up, Billy, and stand right over there.” Joe pointed to the spot where he wanted Billy to stand then took several steps backward. “Now let’s think of some ways we can witness to our friends about Jesus.” In one quick motion, Joe twirled his rope, flung it over the boy’s head, and cinched it around his waist. “There! I’ve roped you real good, and now you’ve gotta listen to the pastor’s message.”
Billy looked at Joe as if he’d taken leave of his senses. “Guess ropin’ your friends isn’t the best way to invite them to church.” He undid the rope. “Hmm … what else could I do to get someone to come to church?”
Joe tipped his head to one side, pressed his lips together, then snapped his fingers. “I know! I’ll handcuff this young man and force him to come to church.” Joe reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of plastic handcuffs. He dangled them above Billy’s head, and several children laughed. “You don’t think that’s a good idea?”
“That wouldn’t be nice!” a little girl shouted.
Joe nodded. “You’re right. It wouldn’t be.” He tapped the toe of his cowboy boot against the floor. “Let’s see now.” Joe bent down so he was on the same level with the boy. “If you’re not willing to go to Sunday school with me, I won’t be your friend anymore.”
Billy raised his eyebrows. Joe chuckled then ruffled the child’s hair. “Guess that’s not the way to witness, either.”
Joe began to pace the length of the platform. “What’s the best way to witness? What’s the best way to witness?” He stopped suddenly, nearly running into the boy. “Hey! You still here?”
Billy nodded. “Do you want me to sit down?”
Joe shook his head. “No way! We still haven’t shown these kids the best way to witness.”
Billy tapped Joe on the arm, and Joe bent down so the boy could whisper something in his ear. When he lifted his head again, Joe was smiling. He turned to face the audience. “This young man thinks I should offer him something so he’ll agree to come to Sunday school with me.” He winked. “And I think I have the perfect gift.”
Joe reached into another pocket of his baggy jeans and grabbed a couple of pencil balloons. The first one he inflated flew across the room, and everyone howled. When he blew up the next one, he twisted it quickly into an animal. “Here you go, son—your very own pony.” He handed Billy the balloon creation then told him he could return to his seat.
Next Joe pulled a small New Testament from his shirt pocket. He opened it and turned a few pages. “In Mark, chapter 16, verse 15, Jesus commanded His disciples to go into the world and preach the good news to all creation.” He held up the book. “That means we should do the same. We need to tell others about Jesus, and one of the ways we can do that is by inviting our friends and relatives to Sunday school and church where they can hear Bible stories about Him.”
Joe moved to the end of the platform and held up the rope and handcuffs. “Forcing them to come isn’t the answer.” He drew a fake flower from his vest pocket and showed the audience. “If you use some form of bribery, it might get them here—but will it keep them?” He shook his head. “I doubt it, and I don’t think that’s the way Jesus meant for us to preach the good news. We need to live the Christian life so others will see Jesus shining through us. Then, when we invite our friends and family to church, they’ll want to come and see what’s it all about.” He shook his head slowly. “Shame on me for trying to make you think otherwise.”
Joe held the flower in front of his own face and squeezed the attached bulb. A stream of water squirted on his nose, and the audience clapped heartily. Joe took a bow and dashed out of the room.
Joe didn’t wish to disturb the church service, so he stayed in the small room outside the sanctuary, listening to the pastor’s message from his seat near the door. After the congregation was dismissed, Joe stepped over to the pastor. “If you’re not too busy, may I speak with you for a few minutes?”
“Sure, Joe. I have time to talk now.”
Joe followed Pastor Cummings down the hall to his office where they sat down in easy chairs.
The pastor leaned forward. “You’re an excellent clown, Joe. God’s given you a special talent, and it’s good to see you using it for Him.”
Joe folded his arms. “If I can bring a smile to someone’s heart, it’s a ministry worth doing.�
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Pastor Cummings nodded. “Most people seem to open up to a clown. I’ve noticed that the barriers seem to come down the minute you step into a room.”
“You’re right, but I’ve seen a few exceptions,” Joe said. “I remember being in a restaurant one time to do a kid’s birthday party, and an older man was sitting at a nearby table. He seemed nervous by my presence and stayed hidden behind his newspaper until I left.”
“Guess he forgot what it was like to be a child.”
Joe shrugged. “Could be.”
Pastor Cummings wrinkled his forehead. “Maybe the man was afraid to laugh. Some people have a hard time getting in touch with their emotions—especially if they’ve been hindered during their growing-up years.”
Joe shifted uneasily in his chair. Could the pastor see inside his heart and know how discouraged he’d been as a child? Did he know how hard it was for him to get in touch with his feelings?
“What did you wish to speak with me about, Joe?”
Joe’s nerves were as taut as a rubber band. This was going to be harder than he thought. “I’m … dating a woman now who is … well, Lois tends to be kind of serious.”
“Does that bother you?” the pastor asked.
“Not really, because she’s recently taken a couple of clowning classes and is learning to relax and joke around.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I think I’m the problem,” Joe said.
“How so?”
“Lois wants to know about my family and what went on in my past.”
“And I take it you’d rather not talk about that part of your life?”
Joe nodded. “The truth is, I don’t even want to think about the past, much less discuss it.”
He took a few deep breaths and tried to relax. The only sound was the soft ticking of the clock on the wall behind the pastor’s desk.
Time to Laugh Romance Collection Page 27
