A Fear of Clowns (The Greasepaint Chronicals) (8 page)

It was a thing that he'd never
gone in for. Maybe it was just that Jay didn't like to take too many risks,
preferring things that he had a real chance to influence, either through skill
or preparation. That reminded him that he still had a job to do, as ill-defined
as it was. He didn't know for certain, but there was a sense about the day that
left him thinking that most large places ran their acts a bit more tightly than
the Placemont was doing right then.

"Ah, well, this humble hobo
had best be back to work. I... Didn't get your name." It was on the tag,
as Mr. Michelson, but it didn't hurt to make a bit of small talk now and then.

"Greg. You're..."

"Jason Hadley. Or," he
gestured down at himself, to indicate his brown jacket and oversized tie.
"Joey the Clown, the Clown of a Thousand Faces. Pretty much if you see
someone running around here dressed too funny, it's probably me. For the next
few days at least."

The man grunted and turned away,
seeming a lot more friendly, now that it had turned out that the clown was just
what he seemed and not a super secret private eye or whatever would be sent in
to gather information.

Michelson smirked a bit.

"Have you seen what most of
these tourists wear? I'll see you around then. We can see about setting up that
viewing if you're really interested? I have some police coming in tomorrow for
it anyway, and it won't hurt to have a 'private consultant' in the background."
Then, as if it were settled, the man just strode away, his footsteps heavy, and
a bit hulking.

Hunger was growling at him, but
he didn't stop to find food, hitting the main floor again, and passing out more
buffet coupons and hints about what was hot. Ginger was still there, serving
drinks, watching him suspiciously. She smiled too though, as if getting that
he'd changed, and was the same clown as before.

The place was a lot busier just
then, which meant that he was needed back on stage at nine, the main show. That
was his plan at least, and no one stopped him or suggested they were up instead.
Carlos and Wendy were actually back stage before he came off, leaving the
audience seeming happier this time. It was the same act as earlier, with his
humble character mainly telling stories, and working off color commentary into
them. They were made up, after a fashion. Tales from his time on the streets
that could be delivered with a punch line. That and some slapstick, with him
falling down, or nearly so, and a few prop gags. One of them was a variation of
the handkerchief bit that he'd done earlier, except the when he pulled the bit
of cloth out, it was only a tiny red corner to it, with an obvious patch on it.

"What can I say, times are
hard
!"
It got a chuckle, which had been enough. Thankfully, after thirty minutes he
was able to get out from in front of the curtain, Carlos and Wendy signaling
him from the side area with big motions.

"Dang it, I've been
fired!" He hunched over, saying it with a goofy sounding voice that got
people to look at him in shock, then laugh. "Ladies and gentlemen, let's
all welcome The Great Mantooth, magician extraordinaire!"

Clapping he backed off the stage,
going to the other side, so that Carlos, who was dressed in a tux, along with a
top hat on his slightly oversized head, and a cape that was made of black
satin, could flow out to greet the audience. It was well done, and like always
the man captivated them all, nearly instantly. No one even heckled him. They
had Jay, but as they'd mentioned, he sucked. That could happen when you didn't
really have an act.

Max, the slightly better rested
looking manager, seemed to have gotten some sleep and cleaned up. His face was
bare now, and while still too round, making him look a bit like a hound dog,
his eyes were a clear blue. Waving his hand, he motioned for Jay to come over,
actually smiling, as they got back into a dressing area, and closed the door
softly, so they could talk without disrupting the show.

"That was freaking
brilliant, kid. Unique too. A bit like an old time vaudeville thing, yeah? I
hear you also worked the floor all day? The pit boss was keeping an eye on you.
Said that if I didn't keep you on he'd put a curse on me. He will too, so, what
do you say? We can set you up for a gig? You did a good job with the introduction
there, so how about you do that too? We have two more acts on for the night. A
song and dance group, doing covers from fifties mainly, and a ventriloquist. I
have paperwork for them, so you won't be doing it blind. Kind of a position
doing everything, but it pays medium." That got things shoved into his
hands, which left him smiling.

It sounded like, of all things,
he'd just gotten a real job. It wasn't in his chosen field, but a clown could
do worse than something like that.

"Sounds good. Let me study
this then? So I don't mess it up?" He kept to his stage voice, which
didn't even get a funny look from the man. He worked with show people, and
either got the idea, or was willing to accept that Jay had serious mental
problems that caused him to stay in character when he was dressed for the part.

The man took his hand, in both of
his and shook it hard. Like a preacher trying to convince a person that he was
truly holy on Sunday morning, no matter what he'd been out doing the night
before.

"Great! I'll get with you in
the morning about the acts then. We need to hire at least four more, so we can
spread things out. Losing everyone at once... You heard what happened?" He
looked at the ceiling, where there was a camera set up.
In
a dressing
room. Every place was watched there, to prevent theft. It probably had to be.

"Card counting scam with at
least ten of the performers in on it. Hushed up because you...
we
, had
to let all of them go, just in case?" If he were getting a real position
there, it would be best to proclaim himself part of the team as early as
possible. Almost everything in life was really an "us and them" sort
of game, and knowing that let him proclaim a side early. In this case it was
the one that would pay him.

"That's the situation. Who
told you? We're going with food poisoning, to protect the innocent, if anyone
asks. Also, if you can make sure people know they all ate somewhere
else
?
We've had three days of people walking around wondering what the heck our cooks
are doing back in the kitchens, which is unfortunate. They're good folk, back
there. We're a family here. A giant, mostly dysfunctional and sometimes
thieving one, but still... We look out for each other."

"Got it. Greg mentioned
something about sitting in on the video breakdown for the police tomorrow? I
don't want to shirk my floor duties..."

Max gave him a confused look, and
then shook his head. "Give us four hours on the floor, and an hour on
stage, with MC duties, four days a week. The rest of your time is yours,
strictly speaking. We can, if you want, talk about management stuff too. I need
a real assistant. First I want to see if you prove out, but if you do a good
job... Well, let's just say that Carlos and Wendy both think you walk on water.
That carries weight in this area." Then, after patting him on a brown hobo
jacketed arm, the man left, so that Jay could get ready. He had to do that in
the hall, since the five women who came in needed to change for their act. At
least, he started to move out of the way, since there wasn't room otherwise.

"Hi, I'm doing your intro, I
have the name of the group here, the Rhondettes Extravaganza?" He pointed
at the paper, still in character, which got the forty year old looking redhead
that seemed to be in charge to turn around, her shirt off, showing that she was
wearing a bra at least. It was pink with small silk flowers on it. He made a point
not to stare. That
had
to be unprofessional.

"Rhonda and the Rhondettes
Extravaganza. Jeeze." She looked at the sheet of paper and then rolled her
eyes. "At least you asked first. Our last number is 'Remember me'. That
says it's 'I Will Follow Him' which isn't even in our act anymore. Old info,
from the last time we worked here. I'm Rhonda, by the way. Can you get a star
for the door here? With my name on it?" It was said in a teasing fashion,
so he nodded.

"Cut from old newspaper? Us
hobos gotta make do."

She smiled and started to strip
down, as if it didn't matter that he was standing right there. That meant it
was time to get out of the room and make changes to the schedule, so that he'd
hit the right cues. The lighting guy, who turned out to be a sturdy woman named
Gloria, passed him a pen.

"I'll need to get used to
carrying my own. Thanks. Um," he was whispering, but rewrote the instructions
on the pad that the woman had, not speaking out loud. That way she'd know the
cues too.

There were problems of course,
since he hadn't put in his own introductions between sets, or planned anything
out. After Carlos and Wendy cleared the stage, he just stumbled on and
pretended not to know why he was there for a minute.

"Um, some guy told me that
if I did this I could have a sandwich. I'm soooo hungry. I haven't had a bite
all day." Thankfully Max, who was in the back of the room called out,
giving him something to work off of.

"
I'll
bite you, if
you don't do the introductions!" Everyone reacted, shocked by the pretend
abuse.

"Rhonda and the Rhondettes
Extravaganza! Let's all clap... or that man will beat me!"

Then he stumbled away, since the
lights went out, waiting for the women who were behind the red curtain.

They had music too, but that was
all messed up, and out of order, since no one was running the sound system. The
whole thing was an embarrassment, and halfway through it looked like Rhonda was
about to walk off. She actually threw her microphone down, making it squeal
angrily, and turned to leave, her pretty face red and disgusted looking. Jason
couldn't blame her at all. It was the last minute nature of things he guessed,
since all the ladies were really good singers. The timing was just all messed
up, and the songs were being played out of order. Grabbing a push broom he
swallowed, and patted Gloria on the shoulder.

"Can you give me a spot, when
I get center stage?" He didn't know what he was really going to do, but
the music had stopped all together, and Max was hurrying to the back. Hopefully
he knew what to do about it.

Sweeping his way forward, all the
ladies stopped moving and stared at him. It was rude to interrupt an act. It
had to be, since it would normally be show stealing. Rhonda was
good
though, and grabbed onto the thread he was offering, her ruby red lips
smirking. She put her hands on her hips and thrust them forward just enough
that the audience could see it was all part of an act.

"What's with the cut rate
music? Aren't you supposed to be back there running things for us, Joey?"
That she knew his name surprised him a little. He hadn't told her his
performing moniker, he didn't think.

"I
was
, but the
sandwich that guy gave me had
limburger
on it. I'm on strike, until I
get some processed American, or at least
Swiss
. That man who hired me is
so unpatriotic, everyone knows that bologna is best with American! What do you
say folks, am I worth a decent sandwich, or not?" The reaction was mixed,
but loud, and the ladies were on his side, wanting to get their act under way.
They all went back and forth for a bit, with the audience mainly voting for him
to be paid with something more tasty than smelly cheese, by the end. Mainly
thanks to the Rhondettes making pretend eyes at him. Max finally came out, his
face fixed in a scowl. He shook a raised fist in mock menace.

"You bum! Get off the stage
and let my performers work. Or I'll limburger you
so
hard!" It
wasn't well done, but got things going, and the second they were off the lights
changed, as if it had all been planned, and the music started to play
correctly. The man didn't even speak, just patting him on the back before
walking away.

The shows went on until two, with
the ventriloquist, who was a grown man that worked with puppets called Benny
Sims, his main character being Mongo, drew the whole thing to an end for the
night. Jay had to go and close it down, but everyone seemed pleased enough,
given how sloppy it had all been.

He wasn't the only one to think
so either. Max was back stage when he got there, along with everyone else.
Without thinking, Jay moved toward Wendy, who'd smiled at him, her face pleasant.
He got a little one armed hug from her. She didn't normally do things like
that, since he
tried
to be a bit standoffish with her. The last thing he
wanted was for Carlos to think he was trying to steal his wife. Gloria, looking
like a blonde linebacker trundled over to them too, leaving Max in the center
of the group of people.

"Thanks everyone. Things
were a little rough, but we can smooth that out. Let's call a two o'clock
practice here tomorrow? Just a quick run through. I really appreciate you all
coming in on short notice like this. Jason, I called Greg and he said that you
can meet him for lunch in the second meeting room? Noon. Then we have a few
acts to look at. Rhonda, Rhondettes... You're all troopers. That screw up was
my fault. I was tired when I put the play list in the computer and screwed
things up. It won't happen again. Gloria, perfect work. Like always. Again,
thanks everyone." Then he walked away, seeming a bit like a man trying to
make an escape.

People muttered, but no one
walked out, which was a good sign. It meant that they needed the work, or at
least didn't feel like they were being abused too much.

Carlos walked over looking dapper
in his business suit. Not everyone got to wear a tux to work every day.