Clowning Around

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

“Thanks. Take care now.”

  “You too. Bye, Lois.”

  Lois hung up the phone and went down to the kitchen, where she found her parents sitting at the table, drinking coffee.

  “There’s more in the pot.” Dad lifted his mug as she entered the room. Even with his paunchy stomach and thinning blond hair, she still thought her father was attractive.

  She smiled and shook her head. “Thanks, Dad. I’d rather have tea.”

  “There’s some in the cupboard above the refrigerator,” her mother said. “What would you like me to fix for breakfast?”

  “I’ll just grab a piece of fruit,” Lois replied. “Dad, can you drive me to Tacoma right away?”

  His eyebrows lifted. “So soon? What’s the rush?”

  She took a seat at the table. “I’ve already missed Sunday school, and I’d like to at least get there in time for church.”

  Her mother sighed. “Church—church—church. Is that all my two daughters ever think about anymore?”

  Lois held back a retort. Instead she smiled and said, “Have you heard from Tabby recently?”

  “She sent us a postcard from Moscow, Idaho, a few weeks ago,” her mother answered. “Her note said she and Seth were extending their time on the road.”

  “I’m glad Tabby finally got over her shyness,” her dad interjected, “but I don’t see why she has to run around the countryside preaching hellfire and damnation.”

  Lois felt her face flame. Not too many years ago she’d have felt the same way about her sister. But now that she was a Christian, she understood why Tabby wanted to share the good news. “Tabby and Seth don’t preach hellfire and damnation, Dad. They share God’s love and how people can know Him personally through His Son, Jesus Christ.”

  Her dad shrugged and rubbed a hand across his chin. “Whatever.”

  Lois grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and stood up. “Will you drive me back to Tacoma?”

  He nodded curtly. “If that’s what you want. You know me—always aim to please.”

  ❧

  It was harder to do things with one hand than Joe had expected. Maybe I should’ve asked Lois to come by this morning and fix me a decent breakfast. He shook his head as he struggled to butter a piece of toast. He hadn’t realized until now how dependent he was on using both hands to do simple, basic things. “Guess it wouldn’t have been fair to expect her to give up going to church and play nursemaid to me.”

  Joe dropped into a chair and stared blankly at the Sunday morning newspaper. He’d come to care for Lois. But did he have anything to offer a woman like her? She was sophisticated and beautiful and blessed with a sweet, Christian spirit. She didn’t seem prone to mood swings, which probably meant she was nothing like his mother. Still, Joe was holding back from any kind of commitment. What bothered him most was that he had no secure job, never knowing from week to week, month to month, where, when, or even if he would be called to do another program. What kind of future did he have to offer a wife?

  “A wife?” Joe moaned. “Why am I even thinking about marriage?” After his mother died, he’d told himself he would never marry. Even though he’d been concerned about finding a woman whose emotions were stable, he was even more worried about his inability to support a family. Like Jesus’ disciples, Joe lived from month to month on what others gave in payment for the services he rendered as a clown.

  He glanced at his Bible, lying beside the newspaper. “I don’t need to waste my time on these negative thoughts,” he muttered. “I can look in my Bible for verses that remind me to have a merry heart.”

  ❧

  Lois slipped into the pew, realizing she was ten minutes late, but glad she’d made it to church at all. Her dad hadn’t been happy about driving her home before he’d read the Sunday newspaper. But at least they’d enjoyed a good visit in the car, though Lois was careful to keep the conversation light and away from religious things. It troubled her the way her parents were so opposed to church and faith in God and even talking about spiritual matters. She wanted them to see their need for Christ’s forgiveness of their sins.

  If Tabby and I keep praying and showing Mom and Dad we love them, maybe someday it will happen.

  Lois opened her hymnbook and joined the congregation in singing “Love Lifted Me.” After a few lines, she felt her burdens become lighter as she thought about how much God loved her. Enough to send His Son to die in her place.

  When the service was over, Lois spotted Tabby’s friend, Donna, talking to the senior pastor and his wife. Lois waited patiently until they were finished, then she stepped up to Donna and gave her a little nudge. “How’s everything with you?”

  Donna shrugged. “Okay, but I’ll sure be glad when Tabby’s back. Things aren’t the same without her, and the day care kids miss her something awful.”

  Lois was about to comment, but Donna cut her off. “Tabby really has a way with children. I think she’ll make a good mother someday, don’t you?”

  Lois nodded. “I agree.”

  Donna motioned for Lois to move away from the crowd, and the two of them found a spot in one corner of the room. “So what’s new in your life?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Hey, Lois, I’m glad to see you made it to church.”

  Lois turned and smiled at Dan Gleason, the Sunday school superintendent.

  “I asked one of our older teens to take your class, and she said everything went fine,” he told her.

  “That’s great. Thanks for taking care of things on such short notice,” Lois responded.

  “No problem.” Dan grinned and reached up to scratch his head. “Say, I was wondering if you’d be interested in having Carla Sweeney help you every week. She’ll graduate from high school in June and wants to find some kind of ministry within the church.”

  Lois smiled. She would love to have some help with her class. Sometimes she felt she had more kids than she could handle. An extra pair of hands would be helpful when it came to craft time as well. “Sure! Tell Carla I’d be happy to have her as my assistant.”

  Dan nodded, said good-bye, and walked off. Lois turned back to Donna, but she was gone.

  Lois shrugged and headed for the nearest exit. It would be good to get home where she could relax for the rest of the day.

  Fourteen

  Lois was sitting in front of her computer at work on Monday morning when she felt someone’s hand touch her shoulder. She whirled around and was surprised to see her sister standing there.

  “Tabby! When did you get back? Why didn’t you call?”

  Tabby held up one hand. “Whoa! One question at a time, please.”

  Lois stood and gave her sister a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “It’s great to see you too. Seth and I got in late last night, which is why I didn’t call. I decided to surprise you instead.”

  “You did that all right.” Lois nodded toward the chair next to her desk. “Have a seat and tell me about your trip.”

  Tabby dropped into the chair and smiled. “It was awesome, Lois. Everywhere we went there were spiritual conversions. I feel so energized—I think I could hike up Mt. Rainier and not even feel winded.”

  Lois chuckled and gave her sister’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Now that I’d like to see.”

  “Seriously, though, I wish you could have been there to see people asking Jesus into their hearts.” Tabby’s eyes misted.

  “I wish that too,” Lois murmured.

  Tabby grinned. “What’s new in your life? Are you still seeing Joe Richey?”

  Lois nodded. “Up until last Saturday I was. I’m not sure about the future though.”

  Tabby’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why not?”

  “I’m worried that Joe and I might not be suited for one another. He probably needs someone more carefree and fun loving than I am. Maybe I should bow out, before one of us gets hurt.”

  “Bow out? You have to be kidding! I can see how much you care about Joe. It’s written all over your fac
e.”

  Lois hated to admit it, but Tabby was right. In spite of Joe’s refusal to see the serious side of things, she was falling headlong into the tunnel of love.

  “Did something happen between you and Joe to make you question your relationship?” Tabby asked.

  “Sort of.”

  “Want to talk about it?’

  “I–I guess so.” Lois nodded toward her computer screen. “I really should get back to work right now. And you’re probably expected in the day care center. Why don’t we meet at our favorite spot for lunch, and I’ll tell you about it then?”

  Tabby stood up. “Sounds good to me.” She smiled. “I’ll meet you at Garrison’s at noon.”

  Lois watched as Tabby left the room. Her sister walked with a bounce to her step and an assurance she’d never had before she started using her talents to serve the Lord. Talents. There was that word again. Lois couldn’t help but envy others like Tabby and Seth who were both ventriloquists, Donna and her beautiful chalk-art drawings, and Joe with his gospel clown routines. What could Lois do that would have an impact on people’s lives? Were being the church secretary and teaching a Sunday school class enough for her?

  You could take the clowning class Joe is scheduled to teach next month, a little voice reminded her. You won’t know if you’d enjoy clowning until you give it a try.

  Lois grabbed her desk calendar and studied the month of October. She didn’t have anything pencilled in, except a dental appointment, and the church harvest party. “I have the time,” she murmured. “The question is, do I have the talent?”

  ❧

  Garrison’s Deli was crowded, but Lois and Tabby found a small table in the corner. They both ordered veggie sandwiches and ate as they chatted.

  “Tell me what the problem is with you and Joe,” Tabby prompted her. “I thought you’d decided it didn’t matter whether you and he were equally matched.”

  Lois shrugged. “I did think that for awhile, but the other night Joe cut his hand, and—”

  “What happened? Was he hurt bad?”

  “He was dropping me off at my apartment, and a bottle was lying in the front yard. When he picked it up, he cut his hand.”

  Tabby grimaced. “That’s terrible. Did he need stitches?”

  “Yes, and all during the process he kept cracking jokes.” Lois wrinkled her forehead. “I could see by the look on his face that he was pretty stressed out; yet he kept making small talk and telling one joke after another.” She sighed. “I guess he was trying to cover up his real feelings, but it made me wonder if he even knows how to be serious.”

  “Have you ever thought maybe Joe is so used to clowning he doesn’t know when to quit? It could be that once you know him better, you’ll see another side of the man.”

  “You think I should keep seeing him?”

  “Of course. In the months since you and Michael Yehley broke up, I haven’t seen you look so content.” Tabby patted Lois’s hand. “Instead of hoping Joe will become more serious, why not try to be more lighthearted yourself?”

  Lois contemplated her sister’s last statement. “You could be right. Maybe I’ll take one of Joe’s clowning classes and find out how much humor I have inside of me.”

  ❧

  It had been a little over a week since Joe had cut his hand. The pain had subsided, and he was finally able to use it again. He’d had only one program in the last week, so that gave him time to allow the injury to heal—and the opportunity to think about his friendship with Lois.

  Joe stared at his morning cup of coffee. Was their relationship going anywhere? He thought they’d had a great time at the Seattle Center last Saturday, but after he’d cut his hand and she’d taken him to the hospital, Lois seemed kind of distant. He hoped she wasn’t prone to mood swings after all.

  An uninvited image flashed onto the screen of Joe’s mind, and a hard knot formed in his stomach. He could see himself and his little brother, Brian, sitting on the steps of their front porch. They were blowing bubbles and having a great time. Mom was seated in a wicker chair nearby, doing some kind of needlework. One minute she was laughing and sharing in the joy Joe felt as each bubble formed. But the next minute she was shouting at him. “Do you plan to sit there all day blowing bubbles, Joe, or are you going to weed those flower beds?”

  Joe’s throat constricted as the vision of his mother became clearer. She was wearing a pair of men’s faded blue overalls, and her long, dark hair hung in a braid down her back. Her brown eyes flashed with anger as she jumped up from her seat, marched across the porch and grabbed hold of Joe’s ear. “Do you hear me, Boy? Why are you wasting the day with those stupid bubbles?”

  Tears stung the back of young Joe’s eyes as he rose to his feet. “I–I didn’t even know you wanted the flower beds weeded.”

  “Speak up! I can’t understand when you mumble!”

  “I didn’t know you wanted me to do any weeding today,” Joe said, much louder this time.

  “Of course you knew. I told you that yesterday.”

  Joe handed his bottle of bubbles to Brian. “You might as well have some fun, even if I have to work all afternoon.”

  Brian’s expression was one of pity, but he took the bubbles and looked away. Joe sauntered down the steps, as though nothing unusual had happened. In fact, by the time he reached the shed where the gardening tools were kept, Joe was whistling a tune.

  The sharp ringing of the telephone jolted him back to the present. He was glad for the interruption. It always hurt when he thought about the past. It was difficult to deal with his pain over the way Mom used to be, but at least she’d committed her life to the Lord the night before she died. That was comforting, even though it hadn’t erased the agony of the past.

  The phone kept on ringing, and Joe finally grabbed the receiver. “Joe Richey here.”

  “Hi, Joe. It’s Lois.”

  Joe’s lips twitched, as he tried to gather his whirling thoughts into some kind of order. “What’s up, Lois?”

  “I called to see how your hand is doing.”

  “Much better, thanks,” he said, flexing the fingers of the hand that had been cut.

  “I’m glad to hear it.” There was a long pause. “I also wanted to tell you, Joe, that I’ve made a decision.”

  A feeling of apprehension crept up Joe’s spine. Was she going to say she didn’t want to see him anymore? “What decision is that?”

  “It’s about that clowning class you’ll be teaching in Bremerton next month.”

  Joe expelled the breath he’d been holding. “What about it?”

  “I’ve decided to take you up on your offer. I want to learn how to be a clown.”

  Fifteen

  Lois sat in the front row of a classroom with about fifty other people. She held a pen and notebook in her hands and was ready for Slow-Joe the Clown to begin his presentation.

  Joe swaggered into the room, dressed in a green-and-white checkered clown costume and wearing white face paint with a red nose. “Good mornin’, folks! Glad you could be here today.” He spotted Lois, waved, and gave her a quick wink.

  She smiled at him but wished he hadn’t singled her out.

  “The first thing you should know about clowning is that clowns aren’t just silly comedians who dress up in goofy costumes to entertain kids.” Joe shook his head. “No, clowns are performing artists, and to be a successful clown you need to possess certain skills.”

  Lois stared down at her hands, now folded in her lap across the notebook. What skills did she have, other than being able to type eighty words a minute, answer the phone with a pleasant voice, and keep the church office running as smoothly as possible? She couldn’t juggle balls, twist balloons into cute little animals, or think of anything funny to say. Did she have any business taking this class?

  “The first recorded reference to clowning dates back to about 2270 B.C.,” Joe stated. “A nine-year-old reportedly said, ‘A jester came to rejoice and delight the heart!’ Until the mid-
1800s, most clowns wore very little makeup. Many clowns today do wear makeup, and each type of face paint can have some kind of meaning.” Joe pointed to his cheek. “Take the white-faced look I’m wearing. Clowns who wear this type of makeup are usually the reserved, refined kind of clown.” He offered the audience a lopsided grin. “Of course, there are exceptions to every rule.”

  Lois’s hope began to soar. Maybe I’m an exception. Maybe I can pretend to be sappy and happy.

  Joe moved over to the board and picked up a piece of chalk. He wrote in bold letters, “What Is a Clown Character?”

  Lois smiled to herself. You. You’re a clown character, Joe Richey.

  “Each clown must somehow be different from all the other clowns,” Joe said with a note of conviction. “Your unique personality is what will make you stand out from the rest. The makeup and clothes you choose to wear will enhance this creation. Your clown’s appearance, way of moving, actions, and reactions are all influenced by your character’s personality.”

  Joe seemed so confident and in his element talking about clowning. Lois picked up her notebook and pen again to take some serious notes.

  “Next,” Joe said, writing on the board, “ask yourself this question: What do I need to be a great clown? You could add some balloon animals to your routine. Or how about a bright orange vest? A few tricks? Juggling? A pet bird?” He shook his head. “While those are all good props and fun additions to your routines, the things you’ll probably need more than anything else are improvisational skills, character development and, most important, a knowledge of the elements of humor.”

  Lois sighed and placed her notebook back in her lap. Elements of humor. Sure hope I learn some of those today.

  “Have you ever noticed how we often make assumptions about people based on what they are wearing?” Joe asked. “For instance, picture a man dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans with holes in the knees and a sweatshirt with a college logo on the front. He’s wearing paint-stained tennis shoes and a wedding ring on his left hand, and he’s holding a cup of coffee in one hand. What do we know about this person?”