he hugged his dog fiercely, more tears began to fall down his cheeks, and he and Slingshot shivered together.
A few minutes later, Guy found them and said sternly, “C’mon, Davey.” He knew he was in trouble because his dad only called him Davey, in that tone of voice, when he was angry.
“Get a move on and no more funny business! Grow up, Son! Why should we have to pound it into your thick skull that clowns are here to entertain us, not to scare us? Take your dog and we’ll head for home.”
Davey knew when to keep his thoughts to himself––knew when his Dad had his mind made up and there would be no further argument.
Two days later, the headlines read “ANOTHER MISSING CHILD”. It went on to name the boy under a photo, the boy whose hair the clown had tousled at the parade. Davey didn’t say a word, though his mother glanced at him with a question in her eyes. Thinking no one will ever believe him, he lowered his head and passed by his parents to go outside and play with his only friend in this world, Slingshot.
Why can’t anyone believe me? It’s so plain to see. So why don’t they want to see the truth, the plain-as-the-nose-on-your-face, God-awful TRUTH!
The year passed by slowly. School and friends filled up the time. Winter was fun. It snowed that year which meant lots of sledding, building forts, and throwing snowballs. It was over too soon. March turned to April, April to May. June passed. Then...July Fourth...The Day of the Clowns!
Davey didn’t even beg to stay home this time. What was the use?
Two clowns. Who would it be this time? Is it his turn yet- to go off to Clown Land, or wherever they take the little boys and girls? And where is it? What sort of torture goes on there? He shivered as he stood next to his mother alongside the parade route.
Once more, the brightly colored clowns––one yellow, one dressed in green- passed out candy. Some they tossed into the crowd, some they handed out personally. Once again, Davey took a step back when they neared him and his parents. The green haired clown glared at him with dead slate-black eyes, then passed on to another family. It touched a boy from his class. Timothy, somebody or other.
Letting himself breathe again, Davey was glad he got through another year. But not glad that it meant another boy would be taken.
“It will be Timothy from my class this time, Mom.” He didn’t want to be right––but he was.
“H––hmmmm,” June barely heard him as she busily cooked breakfast. She had been listening closely to the local news and trying to hear Guy explain something to her, at the same time.
“Next year there will be only one clown. Only one.”
His dad heard his mumbled words this time.
“When will you grow up? Davey, I’ve told you and told you. Now, no more clown talk! Have you got that straight?”
“Yes, Dad. I’ve got it.” As he ran from the room, he made a parting shot, “Watch next year. There will be only one clown! And maybe this time it will take me!” He disappeared outside so fast that his dad didn’t have time to retort.
The summer passed. Fall fell. Same old, same old, with one bright exception––Mom and Dad announced they were going to have a new baby! It was going to be great! Davey decided he would love being an older brother.
“What do you want, Little Man, a sister or a brother?”
He shrugged and said, “It don’t matter. I will love either one.”
“That’s my boy!” Guy interrupted him, “So grown up now!”
Davey stuck out his chest and felt good at the praise.
He watched as his mother’s belly grew and grew. It looked like a large basketball filling her up! He smiled at the thought.
“When? When? When will the baby come out?”
“My goodness! So eager, aren’t we? Actually, Doc Maynard said it will be sooner than we expected. Probably by early June.”
“Wow!” Davey could hardly wait.
June first was the day his little sister Abby arrived. When she was brought home, Davey couldn’t stop staring at her. Wow! A real live, little person came out of his momma’s belly. It was a miracle! Suddenly, Davey felt very protective of his baby sister and thought, maybe I am growing up!
NOW, THOUGH, AS DAVEY stood watching the street from his upstairs window, he thought I am not going to the picnic this year. ‘Cause if I