A Fear of Clowns (The Greasepaint Chronicals) Read Online Free Page A

he didn't move, his
brown uniform jacket catching in the wind a bit. It made his shiny star move
just enough to twinkle. "Winthrop's boy? That makes sense. His dad owns
three car lots in the area, and two more over in Links. I met the new wife,
once. The old one died, so it's only half as creepy as you'd think, the new one
being so young. You say she's nice? That's good to hear. My stepmother
wasn't." He coughed. "I'll let you go. Keep up the good driving
work." Then he went back to his car, which was actually a decent sized
truck with a covered back to it and a Sheriff's logo on the side. A big gold
star. It was supposed to be that color anyway, but was actually mustard
colored, since that was more practical. The main body was one of those things
that was harder to name really. A silvery green. It was probably called forest
mist or something like that, on the color swatch.
    Waiting for the man to get back
on the road, and ahead of him, Jason made certain he followed every single road
rule to the letter. It was about the only protection he had. It was amazingly
hard to complain to anyone about a County Sheriff abusing his powers. He'd
tried, at first, but no one was willing to do anything about it. The State
Police didn't see it as a big issue, since he wasn't being beaten regularly,
and the FBI didn't have jurisdiction. The agent he'd talked to had suggested
that he simply move. It was the plan, as soon as he could save up enough money
for it. Hopefully after getting a teaching position somewhere. That wasn't
going to be in town there, given that the Sheriff had put him on a list that
meant the man got a chance to bad mouth him every time someone wanted to check
his credentials.
    It wasn't, as far as anyone had
told him, that the man lied about him. He just told them all that a few
years before, after he'd gotten a divorce, that Jay had quit his good, decent
paying and secure job. Then took to drinking and lived on the streets for over
a year.
    That was enough to keep anyone
from wanting to work with him, or had been so far.
    No one had ever said that getting
back on his feet would be easy.
    It just felt like it was a bit
simpler for a lot of people. As long as they weren't him.
     
     
     
    Chapter
two
     
    Jason had to use the guest
bathroom in the house to get the paint off his face. The cleanup was one of the
reasons he charged so much for each gig. Sure, he was only on for half an hour
normally for the main act. Then Joey would do up some balloons for anyone that
wanted them, pull some coins and trinkets from ears, and all that. In all that
tended to take about an hour. It wasn't worth a hundred and fifty bucks. Even
the humiliation was good for fifty, tops.
    He wasn't selling anything that
people thought would be too bad. It could be embarrassing, and hard on the ego,
but it wasn't illegal or immoral. Plus, he got to have a disguise on. That made
it easier. No one recognized him in the store when he shopped. Kids didn't see
past the giant fake grin, or the fuzzy hair he'd been wearing. In normal
clothes he went back to being invisible to most people. There were a lot of
ways to make money that wouldn't be half as anonymous. Hookers generally had to
move after they were done with the life. That was what they'd always talked
about when he'd been on the street.
    They all wanted to go away, get
off the drugs and leave it all behind.
    The funny thing there was that
most of them really didn't care about the sex that much. All the church ladies
acted like it was men, touching them, violating their virtue, that was the bad
part. The girls he'd known had all pretty much figured the violent rape and
beatings as the part they didn't like. It was a different world, when you were
at the bottom looking up. The perspective change had been enlightening.
    Now he lived in a shed. It was
still better than the street. Better than being with Lynn, too. The betrayal
still hurt, a bitter taste in his mouth that came with a single thought.