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

by Mav Skye

  Buckskin Henry’s Curious Traveling Circus, that was the show Chloe had read about at the library. The book had said they did monstrous things but gave no details.

  She could hear her aunt hesitate to tell her more.

  Chloe said, “For how long?”

  “When your mother was about eight, the tent mysteriously caught fire during a show. The authorities were called and that was the last of it. They never found Buckskin Henry, though many speculated he died in the fire. Our people were afraid he’d track them down. For protection, the government moved our family to the northwest which was as far away as you could get from our people. Ionia had me ten years later, though I don’t remember our father. He was sick, and died after I was born. When I was eighteen, your grandmother died, and your Etsi and I took care of each other.”

  Chloe swallowed hard. Poor Mama Nola, she simply could not imagine what she had witnessed.

  “Listen, Ayita, I know this is a lot to take in.”

  “Yeah.” Chloe’s voice shook on the phone.

  Giggles exploded from the living room, and Chloe walked around the corner of the kitchen, stretching the phone cord as long as she could to get a glimpse of the girls. They’d finished their lunches and were rolling on the floor, pointing at the TV. Chloe prayed Care Bears were still on and not Tales from the Crypt. She needed to get off the phone soon, but Chloe had two more questions. “Aunt Tayanita?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why… why don’t you two talk anymore? What could have possibly happened that—”

  “That,” her aunt said sternly, “is a story for another day.”

  Chloe bit her lip. Now was time for the big question. “Will you help us, Aunt Tayanita?”

  “Of course, child.”

  Chloe let out her breath, and tears sprang to her eyes. “Thank you. Oh, thank you.”

  Her aunt said, “I need a few weeks to finish this case I’m working on, then I can take some time off and fly up there. Is this imminent? Can you wait that long?”

  Chloe closed her eyes, thought of her mother crying and crying. She thought of her crawling on the floor and snapping her teeth, raising the hatchet above her head. “I…I don’t think so.”

  Her aunt was silent. “That bad, huh?”

  “It’s, uh, it’s pretty bad.” Chloe squeezed her eyes shut. The girls had gone uncharacteristically quiet, then there was a noise in the living room, like a cup dropping on the floor.

  “Listen, I want you to take down my home number. Do you have a pen and paper?”

  Chloe ripped a page out of the twin’s coloring book and scribbled the number across mickey mouse, along with Tanya’s personal office number.

  Her aunt said, “Do you have a number where I can reach you at?”

  Chloe said, “We don’t have a phone, but I babysit some kids for a neighbor. We are good friends. I’ll give you her number.”

  She could hear the scratch of pen on paper on the other side of the line.

  Tayanita said, “Listen, I’m going to talk to a few people and see what I can do. You just hold on, okay? And call me immediately if anything else happens.”

  Chloe nodded, relieved to have someone on her side. Someone who could help. “I can’t wait to meet you, Aunt Tayanita.”

  “Call me Tanya.”

  Chloe laughed. “And you can call me Chloe.”

  “It makes it easier for them to remember, yes?”

  “Yes, and… and I like it.”

  “I like my name, too.”

  “Call me for any reason, Chloe. Day or night. I will try to get down there very, very soon.”

  “Will do. Thank you.”

  “I should be thanking you, Chloe. It’s been too long.”

  There was a fond silence between them before they said their goodbyes and hung up.

  Chloe felt considerably more cheered. The world was a much kinder place than it felt just a half hour ago. “Girls, how about some Kool-Aid?” She pulled a full pitcher out of the refrigerator and filled three glasses. She poured an inch back out of the twins’ cups, so they wouldn’t accidentally spill on the carpet. “You girls are too quiet out there. Better not be having telepathic conversations with the Crypt Keeper.” Chloe wandered into the living room, balancing two glasses in one hand. “Your mother will so kill—”

  Chloe stopped dead in her tracks, dropping all three glasses. Cherry Blast Kool-Aid stained the carpet a bright red, but Chloe didn’t notice.

  The twins were gone, a red balloon left in their place.

  Somewhere nearby, a snake rattled its tail.

  20

  The Clown Inside

  AFTER THOROUGHLY SEARCHING INSIDE AND OUTSIDE the Pratts’ trailer, Chloe called Shirley at work and told her the twins were missing, then ran to Joey’s. The truck was there, but no one answered the door.

  She raced home as fast as she could all the way down Gander Avenue, then fishtailed onto Goose Avenue. Sky, trees, brush and rock merged and whirled into a pinwheel of colors. The only clear path Chloe could see was the next step in front of her until she reached her driveway. She screamed for the twins as she dashed down the graveled drive, up the porch steps and burst through the front door.

  Both girls sat on the couch crying; Sharon held a red balloon. “Chloe!” they both cried and leaped off the couch.

  Chloe swung Erin into her arms and wrapped the other arm around Sharon.

  “What happened? Why are you crying?”

  Sharon said, “The clown sneaked inside…he said to follow him or he’d hurt us.”

  Chloe looked to Erin, and she only nodded her head and said, “Scary.” It came out like scwarey.

  Sharon’s eyes were red from crying. She wiped her nose with her finger and said, “Then, he gave me this red balloon and told me to give it to you. But, I don’t want to. I think it means something…something bad.” She broke into hysterical weeping and Chloe fell to her knees and embraced both girls. She gently hushed them, patting their backs and assuring them with promises that she had every intention of keeping. When they quieted, Chloe held out her hand for the balloon string, and after hesitating, Sharon handed it to her. When Chloe touched the string, a surge of energy like a lightning bolt zapped her hand. She cried out and released it.

  Sharon asked, “Oh, oh, no. Are you okay?”

  By accepting the balloon, Chloe had just signed her name on the devil’s contract, and Sharon intuitively knew it.

  Chloe said, “I don’t know.”

  Sharon and Erin embraced Chloe once more as they watched the red balloon float to the ceiling. “Where is the clown now? Did you see where he went?”

  “Outside,” said Sharon.

  “He went outsides,” repeated Erin.

  “Okay.” Chloe cleared her head and set the twins an arm’s length away. “I know you are scared right now, but I need you to be brave. Can you be brave?” Both girls nodded. Chloe held out her hands, and they each grabbed one. She led them down the hallway. “Etsi?”

  She opened her mother’s bedroom door. Chloe’s jewelry box was splayed open on the dresser. The clown held its arms wide, ready to clap. The lipstick tube lay on the floor. The dark red stain had been stomped on and smeared. The lid had rolled to the wall. Had there been a struggle?

  “Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay,” Chloe said to herself, and the twins repeated her as she dragged them into her bedroom. She dropped the twins’ hands and felt for the hatchet beneath her mattress. It was still there. She picked it up.

  Erin said, “What’s that for?”

  She looked at both girls—first one, then the other. “It’s for protection.”

  She grabbed Erin’s hand, who grabbed Sharon’s hand and they walked back down the hall. “Listen, your mom should be here any second. I want you to tell her to go home and call the police.”

  Sharon started crying, “Is it because of the scary clown?”

  “Yes, it’s because of the scary clown.” Chloe led them to the laundry room where she peeke
d out the window to the garden.

  The garden was a living painting with color, texture, and vines growing every which way. Her Etsi was not there. However, the garden shed door had been left open. Not good. They never left the door hanging open like that.

  A blur of motion drew Chloe’s attention to the woods out back. In the shadows, her eyes focused on a faint mix of color.

  “No, no, not now.” Mr. Jingles stepped out from behind a tree. He held a red balloon in one hand and a hatchet in the other.

  Her mother’s words from the other night entered her mind, Become the beast.

  A rattlesnake shook its tail.

  To conquer the beast, one must become the beast.

  Chloe tightened her fist around the hatchet.

  Mr. Jingles let go of the balloon and it rose up, up, up in the wind. The string caught on a tree limb. The red balloon floated in limbo between earth and sky, heaven and hell.

  Mr. Jingles beckoned to her with his free hand, the red painted smile on its face sarcastic—sadistic. It was luring her, daring her.

  The rattle grew louder and louder in her mind. Chris was not Mr. Jingles. She knew that now. For whatever reason he had done what he had done, Chris didn’t have an ounce of animosity in his soul.

  The monster in the woods was a sick ol’ cuss asking for a roll in the hay. He had taken her Etsi and was using her as bait to draw Chloe out.

  “What have you done with her?” murmured Chloe under her breath.

  Sharon, aware of Chloe’s tenseness, whispered, “What have I done with who?”

  Erin said, “The scary clown. It has her Mama.”

  “It does?” asked Sharon. “I bet that makes Chloe mad. I’ve never seen her mad before.”

  Erin said, “The clown is the Crypt Keeper. I just know it. I wish I brought my axe from home like Chloe.”

  Sharon said, “No, he’s not. The Crypt Keeper just tells stories. The clown wants to hurt us. Our axes are plastic. They only work on pretend bad guys like in Tales from the Crypt, not real bad guys.”

  Erin said, “Maybe we aren’t real. Maybe we are just characters trapped in one of the Crypt Keeper’s stories.”

  Sharon pinched her.

  “Oweee!” squealed Erin.

  “You sound real enough to me.”

  “Hush!” Chloe could hear the twins speak, but her focus was on the clown. Every detail of him: the red suspenders with smiley skulls leading up to his face, half white, half black, the jagged lightning bolt scar down the middle. His giant red squeaky nose. As usual, it was the torn, pink bunny ears that caught her attention. Had the person behind the clown ripped the ears from a childhood toy or had he found them abandoned and discarded on the side of the road? As if in reply, the breeze tousled the dirty pink fabric playfully, reminding Chloe of someone. She pushed the thought aside.

  Mr. Jingles stood there, beckoning for her to join his game.

  She heard her mother’s voice again, Become the beast!

  Chloe couldn’t take it anymore. She whipped the girls into the living room and sat them on the couch and began closing and locking the windows. “Look, your mother will be here any minute. Any minute. I need to go outside and deal with…with…”

  “The scary clown?”

  “Yes, the scary clown. You tell your Mama to get the police here as fast as possible, do you understand?”

  Both girls nodded their heads together. Tears slid down Erin’s cheek.

  Sharon held Erin’s hand defiantly, and Chloe knew why. Sharon had thought she had lost her sister once. She would never let that happen again. She’d already given her soul away, and there was no way she was going to let that happen to Erin. Chloe was envious of their fierce devotion to each other, and it also uplifted her. Could true love win the day?

  She hoped so. She hoped so with all her heart.

  “I need you both to be brave, okay? I’m going to lock this door behind me, and I don’t want you to open it up for anyone except the police or your mom. Do you understand?”

  They nodded again; terror etched into their little cherubic faces.

  Chloe dropped the hatchet and squatted down to the girls. She placed one hand on each of their shoulders. Her eyes met with Sharon’s blue and brown ones. Her best friend’s words came to her, spoken a lifetime ago at a moment when she didn’t think she could continue. She repeated this to the twins, but mostly to Sharon. “Be here. Be in the now. Trust yourself.”

  Sharon nodded only once, a ferociousness in her young face that bespoke a maturity most adults would never have the need to reach.

  Chloe then turned to Erin. “If you see that clown walking up to this house, you go to my room and hide under the bed. Do you understand? Your mom is going to be here really soon. All right?”

  Erin said, “I’m afraid for you to fight the Crypt Keeper.”

  Chloe was confused for a moment, then understood. “Me too, but there are some fights you can’t ignore. You have to face the monster if you want the monster to go away.”

  “Chloe?” asked Sharon. “What if the clown monster gets us?”

  “I won’t let that happen.”

  “But what if he does?”

  Chloe gritted her teeth and looked Sharon straight in the eye. “You fight.” Chloe turned to Erin. “You fight to win.”

  Sharon repeated, “We fight to win.”

  Erin dried her tears and looked at Sharon. “We’re brave, aren’t we, Sharon?”

  “Yeah, we are.”

  Chloe instinctively reached for her earlobe. As soon as her fingers touched Godzilla, she knew what she had to do.

  “Do you know what I do when I have a big decision to make or when I’m scared?” Erin shook her head. Chloe removed the Godzilla earring and placed it in Erin’s hand, then closed her hand over it. “I think of Godzilla, and he makes me feel strong and brave. He also brings good luck.” Chloe removed her other one and placed it in Sharon’s hand.

  Sharon said, “But he’s a monster.”

  Chloe shook her head. “He’s one of the good guys, and so are you.” She closed Sharon’s hand over it.

  “But who will keep you safe?” Erin held the earring to her heart.

  Chloe touched her cheek. She whispered, “Uktena.”

  Both of the girls’ mouths dropped open. Chloe kissed their foreheads and grabbed the hatchet. This time she wouldn’t be the one running. “Be brave. I’ll be back soon.”

  Chloe rushed to the front door and locked the knob as she stepped out, shook it to make sure it was locked, then rushed back to the garden.

  Mr. Jingles was still waiting in the woods. When he saw her approach, the clown with the hatchet turned and fled into the shadows of the forest.

  Chloe followed.

  She dodged the tall, spindly cotton woods waving their slim limbs at the gray sky. She leaped over a rotting stump, almost tripping, but Chloe kept her balance, focused on the blur of color moving like a ghost from tree to tree. The clown with the hatchet ran fast enough to stay out of reach, but lagged enough so that she had hope that she would catch up with him.

  And what if she did catch up? A snake rattled its tail in reply. The wind picked up beneath her feet, her vision tunneled and slowed. She heard her mother’s voice, Dance! Dance! Dance! Become the beast.

  Chloe hid behind a maple and watched him dance from one tree to the next, then look back at her. She sprang to a nearby cedar, then to another cedar, mimicking his fluid movement, his predatory smoothness.

  Mr. Jingles paused, confused by her behavior.

  The snake rattled its tail. Become the beast!

  As if Mr. Jingles heard her thoughts, he sprang forward.

  Chloe chased him.

  On they went as if in a game of tag, and then a curious thing happened.

  The clown had circled and was now making his way back to her. As if reading her thoughts, he dodged behind a thick tree stump, hiding from her.

  She ducked behind a stump as well. Brush surrounded her, and
a huckleberry tree hid her face. Its fruit was ripe and plump. They were her favorite to pick in the summer. Now it covered her, providing what she needed.

  Mr. Jingles leaped through a fuss of devil’s club, then ducked behind a clump of maple trees. She heard him crawling on all fours. Growing closer.

  Closer.

  Chloe hesitated…should she move? Be here, Kelly replied.

  A branch waved fifty feet away; he was closer than she had realized.

  Did he know where she was? Be in the now.

  She fell to the ground on all fours and observed the world as her ancestors would. The breeze blew. Branches waved forming a kaleidoscope against the ever moving sky. A crow cawed a warning, and she heard the flap of its wings as it flew away. She felt the cool dirt and soft moss beneath her hands. The scent of ferns, tiger lilies, and fermenting leaves filled her nostrils. Chloe plucked a ripe huckleberry from the branch dangling in front of her face, and she tasted life.

  What should she do? Trust yourself.

  Uktena, breathed her mother, and the snake rattled its tail.

  Chloe spotted a thicket of blackberry brambles. The stems were ancient and round as tree limbs, covered in long, long thorns. Chloe crawled, almost slithering on her belly toward the thicket, and there in the center of the brambles, a trail led inside. Her mother had taught her to look for the tunnels of small rodents and animals inside the thorns. Crawling inside the trails to the heart of the bush was how they gathered the roots for tea.

  The trail was larger than a rabbit’s—probably a raccoon’s—and she squeezed in without thinking twice, keeping her neck lowered to avoid getting thorns in her eyes. Chloe tried to use the hatchet to block the giant thorns, but they scraped down her arms, pricked her back and caught in her hair. Her eyes began to tear up, but driven by adrenaline, she continued forward.

  Deep inside, she heard a raccoon hiss at her from its den, then bungle away through one of its other tunnels. The den gave her just enough room to turn around and face the trail she’d just come through.