Clown – part two

Before I can even think, a man in a black suit and shiny shoes grabs my wrist. His hair is slicked back, and he wears spotless white gloves. He really looks like a penguin. He pulls me to the entrance and opens it with a dramatic gesture. Inside, it is completely dark — there is absolutely no sign of the big show I imagine. He gives me a polite look and says:

“After you, sir.”

Feeling proud, I lift my head and step into the circus. I feel powerful, as if I have reached the top of the world. Finally, I am here. But inside I see nothing — only darkness and emptiness. Never mind, I think, the surprise will be even greater.

Suddenly, my strange companion appears again and leads me to one of the best seats, far from the crowd and the noise. I choose the perfect spot at the end of a row, where I can see everything — maybe even behind the stage. I am so excited I can hardly sit still. Why don’t they start already? I am the guest of honor, aren’t I?

I clear my throat loudly. The “penguin man” turns toward me and stands straight.

“And where are the other spectators?” I ask.

For a moment, he looks down, unsure what to say.

“Don’t worry about that, sir. Just enjoy the show.”

And with that, he disappears.

I am alone. I tap my foot, hum to myself — I have no idea what to do anymore. Suddenly, a loud bang almost bursts my eardrum — the lights on the sides switch on. Another bang — now the whole place is bright. The speakers come alive, and a spotlight hits the stage. I wait for the ringmaster in his top hat to introduce the show, but he does not appear. Instead, a few helpers rush in and set up the scenery.

It is a house. A normal house. It could even be mine. Then acrobats, dancers, animals, and trainers appear — all of them squeezing into that tiny house. How can they all fit in there?

They start performing some kind of act. It is nothing like a theatre play — much stranger. Everyone does their own thing: tumbling, juggling, running, roaring. It is total chaos. I lean forward to see better — I am the only one here anyway. The more I watch, the more confused I become. A clown jumps on a bed. Someone throws torches over a kitchen table. Animals run through the rooms.

Wait… that is my house!

I jump to my feet, shocked. I see elephants and monkeys moving into my living room, acrobats tossing fire in my kitchen, clowns bouncing on my bed. I have to stop this.

I climb over the railing and run toward the stage — toward my house. But the closer I get, the heavier my steps become. My clothes shrink, my shoes grow bigger and bigger. Everything turns red. My hair curls up, my nose becomes large, soft, and bright red. My face turns white, and big colorful circles appear around my eyes — blue and yellow.

I reach the house — my house — but now I look at it differently. My bed is a trampoline, my home is a playground.

In the morning, I wake up breathing hard. “Circus” — that is the only word in my mind. Then I spend hours scrubbing the paint off my face.

Herki Hanna IX. H