“Mommy’s a clown!” Mayor Jamella Adams saw her six-year-old daughter Kelly giggle on the screen of her tablet.
“I am, sweetie, heeheeyaha,” Jamella giggled on impulse and squeezed her nose. Honk! “Something, heeheeyaha, has...happened, heeheeyaha, and it’s turning everyone in this town into clowns.” She honked her nose again, on impulse. “We don’t know what it is, heeheeyaha, it’s also affected our clothes, heeheeyaha, and to a lesser extent our buildings and vehicles, heeheeyaha.” Honk! Honk!
“Mom, could you please,” said her older daughter Megan, “not do that?” As a little girl Megan had been terrified of clowns, and even after she largely got over it, they still made her uneasy.
“I’m sorry, heeheeyaha, I can’t.” As much as she wished she could, Jamella couldn’t help the goofy lilt or involuntary giggles that now peppered her alto voice, or the impulse to honk her big red nose. And she HAD to contact her ex-husband and daughters through skype instead of simply calling them, to show the full extent of what happened. An idea hit her. “Why don’t you take your sister, heeheeyaha, and let me talk to your father, heeheeyaha.” Honk!
Megan took Kelly’s hand and left her father Tyreek alone on the screen. “So, this is real, isn’t it,” Tyreek said frankly. “I’d say this was some kind of joke you were playing but you never were the joking type.”
“No, heeheeyaha, it’s not.” Honk! “Tyreek, I’m trying to be serious, heeheeyaha, and it’s getting harder and harder.” Honk! “The longer I am like this, heeheeyaha, the more compelled I feel to behave like a clown, heeheeyaha.” Honk! “It’s happening to all of us, heeheeyaha, and many now are dumber and more foolish than usual, heeheeyaha. Our doctors can’t say what this is, heeheeyaha; they’ve all been turned into clowns themselves.” Honk!
“Here’s what I want you to do,” she continued. “Keep our daughters far away from here as possible.” Jamalla was grateful that Megan and Kelly were visiting their father on today, far away from this town. Kelly wouldn’t have minded, she always liked clowns, but Jamalla knew it would have been horrible for Megan. A handful of those affected by...whatever this was...suffered from coulrophobia and it was causing them serious mental breakdowns. “I’ve already contacted the governor and he’s sealed off the roads. We’re keeping order as best we can, even if all our police are clowns now; fortunately, heeheeyaha, nobody’s been acting violently. State highway patrolmen and the National Guard have already caught a few people trying to escape and brought them back-and those cops and Guardsmen themselves got turned into clowns. Their guns even turned into seltzer bottles.” The mayor took out a long sigh. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. We may wake up tomorrow back to normal or we may be like this forever.”
Tyreek stood silent on the tablet screen for nearly half a minute. “You...you just said all that without giggling or honking your nose. Not even once.”
“I did?”
“Tyreek nodded. “Your voice sounded almost normal too.”
Jamalla blinked. “Maybe, heeheeyaha, it’s wearing off.” Even before she finished Jamalla knew it was a forlorn hope; as if to emphasize that, she impulsively honked her nose again.
Finally, she said, “Whatever else happens, heeheeyaha, let the girls know I love them.” Honk! Tyreek nodded. “And Tyreek, heeheeyaha, take care of yourself too.” Although their divorce had been-dramatic-Jamalla bore Tyreek no ill will and knew he was a good father to their girls. “And don’t try to contact me. I’ll try to get in touch as soon as we have a better understanding of what’s happening, heeheeyaha, and our condition.”
Jamalla honked her nose and turned off the tablet. Getting up from the chair, the mayor waddled over to the full-length mirror on her office door. Normally she’d have assistants do makeup on her, but now it was unnecessary. Sighing, she looked at herself.
Jamella's ‘makeup’ was simple and elegant; her skin was white from head to toe (ironic since Jamalla was African American). The mayor’s lower lip was bright red with a red circle on either end, forming a noticeable clown smile. Light pinkish red rouged Jamella’s cheeks, her eyebrows were replaced by black arches high on her forehead. Her eyelids were shaded light green and orange and outlined in dark black with tiny black triangles directly underneath her eyes and accented by thick curly black eyelashes.
And at the very center of Jamella’s face was her clown nose, round, red, and nearly as big as a ripe plum, dominating her face.
Jamella’s hair, oddly enough, was in the same bushy ‘disco afro’ style as before but now it was rainbow colored. The nails on her hands were colored one of each, and her feet had stretched and reshaped to fit the size seventeen pink bubble toed platform shoes she wore. Jamella was thankful she hadn’t gained any weight or exaggeratedly sized boobs and butts like so many other residents who turned into clowns.
All the clothes in Jamella’s closet had been reshaped into ridiculous colorful clown outfits. She’d picked her most serious looking one, a tie-dyed blazer with a pink miniskirt and matching blazer-except the blazer’s facings were buttoned back to reveal a rainbow checkered pattern that almost matched her hair, and rainbow striped socks. With a pearl necklace around her neck, gold hoop earrings dangling from her ears, and the silk sash with MAYOR written across it, she still was able to retain some of her dignity, even if she was now a clown.
With a final nod at her reflection, Jamella stepped out of her office and down the hallway to the Assembly Room.
*********
Never during her entire time as mayor had Jamella seen the Assembly Room so packed; but then again nothing like this had ever happened in the history of this town, or the entire world for all she knew.
There were clowns of various types-the ‘neat’ whitefaces like Jamella herself with simple facial markings, the more garish looking ‘comedy’ whitefaces, the augustes white muzzles and patches arounf their eyes, and the shabby looking hoboes and bag-ladies. They were of all ages too; even baby clowns carried on their mothers’ hips.
All of them were talking to each other in loud, silly, goofy voices, and behaving, well, like clowns. Some even had cans of silly string or seltzer water bottles that they were spraying at each other and the other clowns.
Jamella waddled up behind the podium. “People, please,” she spoke into the microphone, but nobody listened. Inspiration hit Jamella; she motioned for the auguste manning the speakers to ramp up the volume. After doing so, he nodded back, and the mayor squeezed her nose.
The loud HONK! blasted through the building; all the clowns in the room immediately became quiet. After the volume was lowered, Jamella spoke. “People, please,” she repeated. “We’ve all turned into clowns, me included. I don’t know how this happened, but whatever else, we must remain calm.” Jamella blinked; again, she’d managed to speak without giggling or honking her nose.
“How can we remain calm, heeheeyaha?” a rather fat auguste clown said and honked her nose. “Our whole bodies are changing, heeheeyaha, and I’m losing control of how I act, heeheeyaha, and I’ve gained over a hundred pounds!” Honk!
“We don’t know what caused this.” Again, Jamella was able to talk seriously without the invouluntary giggles or nose honking. “I’ve talked with the govornor; the roads have been sealed off and are watched by State Troopers and National Guardsmen.”
“You called to get those fascists out there?” Despite the silly lilt in his voice the auguste clown who spoke still sounded angry, even when he honked his nose. Jamella recognized him as Midas Ellie, a gym teacher who ran a conspiracy theory blog. “How we know you aren't in on it, heeheeyaha, and this is all part of some sick military experiment?” Honk!
“I don’t know what’s causing this, heeheeyaha, any more than you do.” The giggles returned to the mayor’s voice, and she honked her nose. “As you can see, heeheeyaha, I’ve been turned into a clown myself,” and she motioned to two auguste clowns dressed in Keystone Cop like outfits. “One family of tourists were trying to leave town. Two state troopers brought them back and as you can see-.” Midas Ellie gave what looked like a frown-hard to tell with the clown smile on his face-but remained silent. “Again, we don’t know what’s causing this, heeheeyaha, maybe it’s something in our air, heeheeyaha, or our water.” Honk! “Maybe it’s contagious virus we’re carrying. We just don’t know, heeheeyaha, and it’s important that we keep it contained.”
“You mean, heeheeyaha,” we may be like this the rest of our lives?” a middle-aged looking bag lady. She honked her bulbous nose.
Jamella nodded. “It’s possible,” she said. “But if we are, heeheeyaha, we should try to keep whatever this is from spreading, heeheeyaha, wouldn’t you agree?” Honk!
“But what about us?” Now the bag lady was sounding comically mournful. “What are we going to do? I don’t want to be a clown!” Seltzer water gently squirted out from her eyes onto the other clowns around her.
“Oh, don’t be such a wiener, heeheeyaha,” said a whiteface a few feet away from her that hadn’t been sprayed. Honk! “This is the most fun this boring old town has seen in ages, heeheeyaha.” Honk!
Honk! “You think this is fun?” A teenage auguste took off the hat he was wearing. “I’m only fifteen and I’m bald!”
“I was the prettiest girl in my class!” Honk! “Now I weigh almost 300 pounds!”
“So go on a diet fatty!” Honk! “Or get liposuction!”
“I can barely move with these feet!” Honk!
“You always were a laz-.”
Now all the clowns in the Town Hall Assembly Room were insulting, slapping, and squirting each other; complete pandemonium was breaking out. Jamella felt her heart sink at the chaos unfolding in front of her-until a big rumbling sounded from outside.
All of the clowns, Jamella included, waddled outside to the Hall courtyard, and looked up at the sky. Silence fell all over them as the clowns realized what was about to happen to their town.
In a low voice, Jeff whispered to Ken, “Maybe we went a little too far?”
HONK! HONK!