60. Tears of a Clown

If Dinah hadn’t had such a meaty arm she’d never have been able to deal those two breakfeasts off of it. She got the coffees down without spilling a drop either. The food was good, even though it would have given an Olympic weightlifter a heart attack, just looking at it. Sam Sara attacked her food as though she’d had a grudge against it for a while. I was pretty enthusiastic myself. When all that was left on the blue and white plate was a pool of grease, I leaned back on the naugahyde and said,

‘Good job there ain’t any pie, Sam.’

She hid a belch behind her hand and said, ‘That’s why there isn’t.’

I nodded at the clown who was in conversation with his reflection in the shuttered half of the window. ‘How come he’s eating corn dogs?’

‘I don’t care. Why don’t you ask him?’ She leaned back herself and took a leaf out of the slumbering police officer’s notebook.

I dragged myself over to the window, where the clown was just looking at the darkened glass, perhaps he’d run out of things to say to himself.

‘Hey there, is it Bozo or Buttons?’

He turned to face me, the red and white of the makeup stained to orange and yellow by the overhead striplights. I thought there was something familiar about him,

‘Shall I give you a clue?’

An avuncular voice, good for telling people news; good or bad. A voice for Joe Shmo, Mr Smith, George Bailey or even Ranse Stoddard. I said, ‘Sure.’

‘Print the legend.’

A clown’s pants are supposed to be baggy. I thought I could see something moving about in the low slung ass-part of the pants Buttons was wearing.

I sighed, ‘Mr D.’

‘Shucks, aren’t yuh pleased ta see me, Gabe?’ He sniffed, then feigned rubbing at a tear.

I looked Satan right in the eye, ‘Whoever is?’

Buttons’ lower lip stuck out. ‘That ain’t friendly now, is it?’

‘Where is J-Rod? I ain’t seen much love-potion action.’

‘Forced down by an Apache helicopter in an Iowa cornfield’. The devil-clown heaved a sigh of his own, ‘For all I know he’s still there. The chopper had an all female crew.’

‘What are you doing here?’

His expression almost made the red-painted smile turn downwards. ‘Gabriel, you wound me. I’m here to HELP.’

I looked the outfit up and down. ‘Just how?’

‘It’s an orphanage ain’t it? Don’t all kids love clowns? Besides, you’ll need me there if the Cels turn up. They’re getting bold. Since my opposite number started losing his marbles, Uriel thinks he can do just anything up here on Earth.’

‘You mean down.’

‘I don’t think I do, Gabe, and neither does Uriel. Not any more. Sometimes, how the other point of view looks is so good that people act-u-ally change their minds. But not usually for the better ’

‘How can you help?’

‘I’m the Master of Reality, Gabe. You just get your paws on Lila Radziwill. I’ll provide the smoke and mirrors.’

“Buttons the Clown” made a bow to the rest of the people in the Diner, and stepped outside. I was the only one who noticed a puff of smoke through the bottom half of the diner window.

I never did ask him about the corn dogs.