theurgy “You’ll love the circus. You eat nothing but cotton candy and ice cream. And ride the elephants. And you’ll never, ever grow up!” Bret felt a stirring of unease. Sprinkles was supposed to be a parody of the evil clown – a clown that didn’t understand he was creepy. Bret wanted to cut the act short, to salvage the concept – but he was too far away, somewhere down in the dark places of his mind. In the background, he heard music playing from darkened windows and it seemed like echoes in a cave: Animals they came off, they came off by three-zees, three-zees! Grizzly bears and chimpanzee-zees, zee-zees, children of the Lord! Sprinkles face twisted into a leer as he leaned in close and peered into his victim’s eyes. As he adjusted his nose, he could see the boy’s fear – almost a dull kind of wonder – shining out in purple glints. He could even see his own reflection: a pallid skull with lopsided eyes and a huge red mouth. “All you’ll have to do is think of me, late at night, and I’ll be there. Under your bed. Ready to take you away,” the clown whispered. “Won’t that be grand?” From the sidewalk the man called, “Ronnie! Come on, all ready! Let’s go!” Glancing towards the sidewalk, the clown grinned and waved. Then he spun around and produced the slit candy apple from behind his back, presenting it to the boy as if it were a rare gift. Ronnie reached for the apple slowly, as if in a dream. It dropped to the porch but the boy didn’t even seem to notice. He couldn’t take his eyes off the clown. “Now, what do you say?” Sprinkles cupped a gloved hand to his ear, leering expectantly. For a moment there was no reply. Then from behind the ninja mask, a small, weak voice barely spoke. “T-thank...” The clown clapped, joyfully, and went back to the door, dancing his ghastly little dance. He backed inside, leaving only his head sticking out. “Bye-bye, Ronnie. See you soon!” Then Sprinkles was gone. Watching the video afterward, Bret laughed and howled as the kid in the ninja costume failed to move from the porch, even after Sprinkles had retreated. Eventually a chuckling man came up and guided him away. “Come on, buddy. Show’s over.” You could barely hear it, but just before they moved out of range, you could hear the father say, in an incredulous voice, “Ron…did you wet your pants?” “Oh man, that’s the one! I’ll have to boost the volume on that last bit, but Ronnie is the one!” Bret had his giant clown shoes propped up on the computer desk, watching the playback. He cracked a beer and went to toast Arlen, who stood next to him. Arlen set his beer down.
47