physician for Cornelius Lovely. She’s his granddaughter.
“Explain this. What about the kiss?” I said.
“Her grandfather had just died. I was comforting her.”
There was a moment of no talking, but Dr. Burke could see the clown still walking toward John Randall.
“Were you? Were you now?” I continued: “Is that all, Dr. Burke?”
“No, no, that’s not all. She’s … I’m having an affair. With her.”
The clown/cameraman was showing the back of the photograph to John Randall, a photograph to the little boy, who said, “That’s not a girl; that’s Abraham Lincoln!”
The camerman/clown turned away from John Randall, and showed his hidden camera the other side of the grainy photograph; on the back was a picture of a long-haired Abraham Lincoln, with red crayon drawings to make him appear to be wearing long red hair.
The clown was heard to say, “You’re right! That’s no dame! What was I thinking?” and handed a five-dollar bill to J.R. “That’s for being so smart, kid!”
Franklin Burke quit sweating, but now was trembling. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“Why are you seeing Miss Lovely, when you have a wife and children who love you?”
“I wanted… I felt… I love her.”
Silence ensued. Then from the speakers the electric voice said, “You may love her, but you didn’t make any promises to her. We have an interest in what’s best for everybody, and your seeing Miss Lovely is not in line with that.”
“Why are you interested?”
“You’re not here to ask questions. You’re here to cooperate. Our man is still at the party. Want him to ask your child how he’d like a new mother?”
“No. Don’t do that.”
“Your son’s childhood almost ended just now; you almost ended it. You can buy him a few more years if you cooperate. Will you cooperate?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We have an assignment for you.”
“What? What is it?”
“Your assignment is … to keep away from Susan Lovely, to break all ties with her, and to be a faithful husband and father.”
The screen went dark, and the room became pitch-black again. After a few moments, Dr. Burke heard the door unlock. He felt his way toward the door, turned the knob and slowly opened it. Stepping out into the hall, he looked up one way and down the other, but saw nobody. He checked his watch. He’d probably lost 45 minutes out of his day. He was behind schedule, but quickly headed out into the parking lot to go home. He was sweating and trembling, and beginning to feel angry, perhaps angry with himself. Who would do this to him, and involve his family?
At the House
Franklin Burke drove home, getting there in record time. The party was still in high gear, and there were bicycles everywhere in their front yard, showing that young people were still around. He parked his car in the street, not bothering to drive into his own courtyard and garage, then headed up the steps and around the house, looking for anything out of the ordinary, like wires or cameras, and walked into the kitchen from the back.
The maid and cook were surprised to see him, greeting him with “Happy birthday, Dr. Burke,” but he brushed by them quickly, walking toward the center of the house. Helen spotted him entering the dining room area where all the children were congregated, saying to him, “Franklin! I’m so glad you’re home… Franklin?” She noticed his wild-eyed look, as though he’d seen something terrible. He breezed past her, entering the area where kids were playing video-games, and found J.R. Kneeling down where J.R. was seated, he struggled to compose himself, saying, “J.R…, “ then hugged his child. Helen watched the episode without a word, knowing something had happened. J.R. looked up as if nothing were out of the ordinary; his father was home. “Happy birthday, Dad!” he said.
“Thank you, son”; he gave his J.R. another hug. Seeing this little scene made Helen wonder what had happened. Franklin stood up; the other children in the room hadn’t noticed anything; they were playing among themselves. He turned to Helen and asked, “Is the clown still here?” looking very angry.
“No, he just left.”
Almost under his breath, he mumbled, “Did he say or do anything unusual?”
Helen searched Franklin’s wild eyes, trying to put all of this together. “He was a clown; everything was unusual! He did balloon tricks, told a few jokes, and did some magic… you know, the usual things that birthday clowns do.”
“Did you get his name? What company he worked for?”
“The ‘Happy-Go-Lucky’ company called and said their