Clowning Around

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Everyone laughed, and Joe took a seat on the floor in front of the fireplace. It felt good to be here with Lois and her family. It had been a year since he’d spent Christmas with anyone, and that had been just he and Mom.

  Lois placed the gift Joe had given her under the tree and dropped down beside him, settling against a couple of throw pillows. “Dinner should be ready soon, but if you’re hungry we put some cut-up veggies and dip on the coffee table.”

  Joe glanced at the tray on the table, and his stomach rumbled. He was hungry, but he thought he’d better not fill up on munchies, since the real thing would be served soon.

  Everyone engaged in small talk for awhile, then Mrs. Johnson stood up. “I’d better check on the turkey.”

  “Would you like some help, Mom?” Tabby asked.

  “That’s okay, Honey. You look kind of tired today, so stay put and rest.”

  Mrs. Johnson’s gaze swung to her younger daughter, and immediately Lois stood to her feet. She looked down at Joe. “Keep the fire warm. I’ll be back soon.”

  ❧

  Lois helped take the turkey out of the oven, then mashed the potatoes while her mom made gravy. She hoped everything was going okay in the living room. Joe appeared to be well received by her family and at ease with everyone.

  “Dad seems to have taken a liking to your clown friend,” her mother said.

  Lois smiled. “Joe’s an easy guy to like.”

  “Like or love?”

  Lois’s head came up at her mother’s direct question. “Who said anything about love?” She searched for words that wouldn’t be a lie. “Joe and I are good friends, and even though I care deeply for him, we do have a few problems.”

  Her mother stirred the gravy. “What kind of problems?”

  “Joe’s very reserved when it comes to talking about his past, and he doesn’t show any emotion but laughter.”

  “But don’t you think being around someone who looks at the bright side of life would be better than having a friend who’s full of doom and gloom?”

  Lois nodded. “Yes, you’re right about that. But too much laughter and clowning around could get to be annoying at times. It seems as if it would be better to have something in between, more of a balance, for a relationship to work.”

  “You have a point, Dear, but keep an open mind. A man can have much worse traits than being a funny guy.”

  “I know, Mom, and I’m trying to stay open-minded.”

  Her mother moved away from the stove and went to the sink. “This gravy is still a bit too thick. I’d better add more water to the flour mixture.”

  “I imagine you’re looking forward to becoming a grandmother in the spring,” Lois said then.

  Her mother groaned softly. “I’ll say, but it’s kind of scary to think about being a grandma. It’s been a long time since I held a baby, much less changed diapers or tried my hand at burping.”

  Lois dropped butter into the potatoes. “It will come back to you.” She chuckled. “It’s probably like riding a bike. Once you learn, no matter how long it’s been between rides, you still remember how to hold onto the handle bars and steer the silly thing.”

  “I hope you’re right. I don’t want to mess up my role of grandma as badly as I did mothering.”

  Lois whirled around to face her mother. “What are you talking about? You were a good mother. You always saw that our needs were met.”

  Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “I did my best to see to your material needs, but I’m afraid I failed miserably at meeting your emotional needs.” She blinked several times. “Especially Tabby’s. I should never have let your father make fun of her the way he did.”

  Lois wiped her hands on a dish towel and hurried to her mother’s side. She put her arms around her shoulders and hugged her. “I’m afraid Dad wasn’t the only one guilty of tormenting Tabby. I did plenty of that myself.”

  “Another area where I failed,” the older woman said tearfully. “I should have prevented it from happening. Instead, I watched you and your father become close while Tabby stood on the sidelines feeling insecure and ugly.” She gave Lois’s arm a gentle pat. “I’m glad the two of you have mended your fences. Even Dad and Tabby are getting along better these days.” She stepped back then looked at Lois. “I. . .went to church with your grandmother last week. Did she tell you?”

  Lois’s mouth dropped open. “She never said a word, but I’m glad to hear it.”

  “We asked Dad to join us, but he wouldn’t budge out of that recliner of his. He said a game was playing on TV, and he wasn’t about to miss it.”

  Lois smiled to herself. She was so grateful her grandmother had made a commitment to the Lord, and now her mom had attended church. Hope for her dad, for both of her parents, welled up inside her.

  ❧

  Joe sat at the Johnsons’ dining room table, enjoying each bite of food he ate. Lois’s mother was a good cook, and she also seemed quiet and steady. Nothing like my mom, he thought. Being around Lois’s father was a pleasure for him too. Since his own dad died when he was young, he’d grown up without a father. Maybe if Dad hadn’t been killed, Mom would have been easier to live with. At least she’d have had a husband to lean on, and Dad might have persuaded her to take the medicine the doctor prescribed. Maybe if she’d become a Christian sooner—

  “Lois mentioned you use balloon animals and some juggling in your clown routines.”

  Grandma Haskins’s pleasant voice pulled Joe abruptly from his thoughts.

  “Oh—yes, I do,” he said, blinking.

  “Maybe you could give us a demonstration after we’ve finished dinner and opened our gifts,” Lois’s mother suggested.

  Joe looked at her and smiled. “I suppose I could put on a little skit.”

  “When I was a boy I used to dream about running away from home and joining the circus,” Lois’s dad put in. “I either wanted to be a clown or a lion tamer.” His stomach jiggled when he laughed.

  Joe chuckled. “Now that’s quite a contrast, Mr. Johnson—I mean, Earl. Did Lois tell you she’s learned some clowning tricks?”

  He felt an elbow connect to his ribs and knew Lois wasn’t thrilled with his question.

  “She’s never mentioned it,” her mother said, raising her eyebrows. “Lois, maybe you and Joe could perform a routine together, the way Tabby and Seth do.”

  “That would be fun to watch,” Tabby agreed.

  Joe glanced at Lois and saw her frown. He knew she wasn’t happy about doing a clown routine with him. He reached for her hand under the table. “Lois has taken only a couple of clowning classes, and she’s still practicing. Maybe it would be best if I went solo this time.”

  Lois let out her breath. “Joe’s right—he will do much better without me.”

  Twenty-two

  During the rest of dinner, Joe remained quiet, answering questions only when they were directed to him. He was reviewing in his mind the clown routine he planned to do, as well as thinking about what he wanted to say to Lois before he went home.

  After they finished eating and the table was cleared, everyone moved to the living room to open Christmas presents. Joe felt out of place, as each member of Lois’s family exchanged gifts. Besides the candy, he’d brought only one gift, and that was for Lois. Joe had hoped to give it to her in private, but it didn’t look as if that would happen.

  “Only two presents are left,” Tabby said, as she stacked the items she’d received onto the coffee table.

  “One’s mine to give Joe, and the other he brought for me,” Lois said. She went to the tree and picked up Joe’s gift. Joe followed, and they handed each other their presents.

  “Should we open them at the same time or take turns?” Joe asked.

  Lois shrugged. “Whatever you’d like to do is fine with me.”

  “Let’s open them together,” he suggested. “On the count of three. One—two—three!” Joe reached into the green gift bag and pulled out a necktie with a painting of Noah�
�s ark and a rainbow on the front.

  “Thanks, Lois. This is great,” he said with sincerity.

  “You’re welcome.” Lois tore the wrapping off her gift and peered inside. Then she looked at Joe.

  “What is it?” Tabby asked, craning her neck to see around Seth, who sat beside her on the couch.

  Lois held up a bright orange construction worker’s hat with a bunch of gizmos attached. Even to Joe it looked weird.

  “What in the world is that?” Lois’s father asked from his chair across the room.

  “It looks like something from outer space,” Seth said, laughing. “Why don’t you model it for us, Lois?”

  ❧

  Lois stared numbly at the so-called “hat” Joe had given her. Two empty cans of soda pop were attached to either side, each connected to a giant plastic straw that trailed over the top of the hat. A third straw came up the back then down over the bill. Hooked to one corner of the helmet was a microphone cord, which was attached to a small metal box with a red lever on the side. Lois had no idea what Joe expected her to do with it.

  “I–I thought it would be a nice addition to your clown outfit,” Joe said, his face flushed. “Why don’t you try it on and show us what it can do?”

  Lois stood there, her gaze shifting from Joe to the gruesome hat and back again. She would never wear such a hideous thing! What had possessed the man to give her this ridiculous Christmas present? She handed the hat to Joe. “Here—you wear it.”

  He shrugged and set it on top of his head. “I might as well show you how it works while I do my clown routine.”

  Lois sat down on the couch beside Tabby, folded her arms across her chest, and watched.

  Joe flicked the red button on the small box attached to the microphone, and suddenly a high-pitched noise pierced the air.

  Lois cupped both hands over her ears and grimaced. She noticed Mom and Grandma had done the same. Tabby, Seth, and Dad were all smiling as if Joe had done something great.

  Joe switched the red lever to the right this time, and bells started ringing. He jumped up and down. “Are those Christmas bells, or is the fire alarm going off?” he shouted.

  Before anyone could respond, he bent down and grabbed an orange and two apples from the glass bowl sitting on the coffee table. One at a time he tossed the pieces of fruit into the air, and he soon had them going up and down simultaneously.

  Lois had to admit that Joe was good at juggling—and all other phases of clowning for that matter. In minutes he could captivate an audience, as he apparently had her family.

  “What goes up must come down!” Joe shouted into the makeshift microphone. “Anyone thirsty?” He continued to juggle the fruit as he pretended to drink from the straw connected to the cans. As if that weren’t enough of a show, Joe did it while he hopped on one foot.

  Everyone cheered, and Lois noticed her father was laughing so hard tears were streaming down his cheeks. Joe’s goofy antics had sure made an impression on him. If Slow-Joe the Clown comes around more often, Dad’s interest in spiritual things might even be sparked.

  As he juggled the fruit, Joe talked about Christianity and how people often juggle their routines to squeeze in time for God. When he was finished, he dropped the fruit back in the bowl, then bowed. Everyone clapped, including Lois. Joe had done a good job of presenting the good news, and he’d made her family laugh. Not only was Slow-Joe a great entertainer, but he was a lot of fun. Was that enough? she wondered.

  ❧

  As the day wore on, Joe began to feel nervous. He liked Lois’s family, and he had finally admitted to himself that he was in love with Lois. During the first part of the day she’d been warm and friendly, but since he’d given her that dumb hat and done his impromptu routine, she’d been aloof. He wondered if she were sorry she’d invited him today. It might be his first and last meal at the Johnsons’ home, and in his book that would be a real shame.

  When Lois excused herself to clear away the dessert dishes, Joe jumped up and followed. “Need some help?” he asked, stepping into the kitchen behind her.

  Lois placed the pie plates in the sink. “You rinse, and I’ll put the dishes in the dishwasher.”

  “I think I can handle that.” Joe went to the sink and turned on the faucet. He waited for Lois to say something, but she remained quiet as he rinsed the plates and handed them to her.

  When the last dish was in place and the dishwasher turned on, Joe reached for Lois’s hand. “I had a good time today. Thanks for inviting me to share your Christmas.”

  She nodded. “You’re welcome.”

  Joe leaned forward, cupped Lois’s chin with his hand, and bent to kiss her.

  She pulled away abruptly. “We should get back to the others.”

  “I blew it with that dumb gift I gave you, didn’t I?”

  She looked at Joe, tears gathering in her blue eyes. “You made a hit with my dad.”

  “But not you?”

  She pressed her lips together.

  The tears in Lois’s eyes were almost Joe’s undoing, and he was tempted to pull her into his arms and say something funny so she would laugh. He hated tears. They were for weak people who couldn’t control their emotions.

  “I’m in love with you, Lois,” he whispered.

  Lois stared at him, her eyes wide.

  “Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked, tipping her chin.

  “I–I’m speechless.”

  Joe chuckled and kissed her forehead. When she didn’t resist, his lips traveled down her nose and across her cheek then found her lips.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss. Finally, Lois pulled back and sighed, leaning her head against Joe’s chest. “I love you too, but I think you might need a woman who’s more like you.”

  Joe took a step backward. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She shook her head slowly. “You’re a clown, Joe. You clown through the day and into the night.”

  “That’s my job, and I hope I’m good at what I do.”

  “You are,” she assured him.

  “Is it because I don’t make a lot of money clowning? Is that the problem?”

  Lois shook her head. “I’ve told you before that I’m not hung up on money. But the thing is, all you ever do is clown around. You make jokes when other people would be saying something serious. You don’t show any other emotion besides happiness. I suspect you do it to avoid revealing your true feelings.” She paused. “After that scene with your brother on Thanksgiving, I think there’s a lot you haven’t wanted to share with me. I respect your privacy, Joe. But if we’re going to continue our relationship, don’t you think you need to trust me by sharing what happened in your past that has upset you so much?”

  Joe looked at his feet. Lois was right; he needed to be up-front with her and stop hiding behind his clown mask to keep from facing his true feelings. But he wasn’t sure he could do either yet. Maybe he needed a few more sessions with Pastor Cummings.

  “I’m not ready to discuss my family’s problems at the moment,” he said, offering her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “But if you’ll be patient with me, I hope maybe someday. . . .”

  She squeezed his hand. “Let’s both be praying about this, okay?”

  He nodded and brought Lois’s fingers to his lips. “I’d better be going. It’s been a great day, and no matter what happens down the road, always remember I love you.”

  Twenty-three

  Joe sat in the chair across from Pastor Cummings’s desk, his left leg propped on top of his right knee. Today was his fourth counseling session, and each time he entered this office he became more uncomfortable. The pastor had a way of probing into Joe’s subconscious, and some of the things he’d found there scared Joe.

  “Tell me more about your mother,” the older man said.

  Joe released his breath and with it a deep moan. “Well, I’ve told you she was very depressed one minute and happy the next, and she only got wo
rse after Dad was killed. Her moods were so unpredictable and her expectations ridiculous.” He dug his fingers into the sides of the chair and fought against the urge to express his anger. “It was because of Mom’s actions that Brian left home shortly after high school. She made our lives miserable when she was alive, but I still loved her.”

  “Of course you did, Joe.” Pastor Cummings leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “What did you do about your mother’s actions?”

  Joe shrugged his shoulders. “To avoid her anger, I gave in and let her have her way on things—even stuff I felt was wrong.” He looked at the pastor. “It was easier than fighting back and suffering the consequences of her frequent outbursts.”

  “If I’ve been hearing you right, you felt as though your mother wanted something you weren’t able to give.”

  Joe moved in the chair, putting both feet on the floor. “That’s correct. Sometimes I just wanted to shout, ‘Go away, Mom, and leave me alone!’ ”

  “But you thought by your mother’s actions that your feelings didn’t matter?”

  Joe nodded again.

  “The truth is, they do matter. Because you didn’t want to be like your mother, you’ve chosen to stuff your feelings down deep inside.” Pastor Cummings picked up his Bible. “Part of the healing process is being able to accept the pain. God made our feelings, and He uses them to help guide us.”

  Joe only shrugged.

  “Do you let yourself cry when you’re hurting, Joe?”

  Joe shook his head. “Tears are a sign of weakness. Mom was weak, and she cried a lot. Brian was weak, and he ran away from home.” Joe pointed to himself. “I chose to stay and take care of Mom, even though she never showed any appreciation.” He frowned. “When she was nice, I felt myself being drawn into her world, like a vacuum sucks lint from the carpet. When she was hateful, though, I wanted to hide my head in the sand and cry until no more tears would come. But I didn’t.”

  “It’s not a weakness to cry or hurt, Son. Tears can be a key element to strength.”