So Far, So Good       kip williams

To say it was 'close quarters' is an understatement. A small staging area directly below the hatch and everybody had to be ready to go up as fast as they could. It was the only way the gag worked. Time it just right and it looks to the shills like everyone is pouring out of the tiny little car. If anybody is off even by second, you risk exposing the opening. About the only thing that could go wrong with the Tiny Clown Car gag, short of the dog or one of the clowns dying, stuck in the opening. It had happened. He had stories to tell.

No hitch here, except for her. She was part of the gag. He was a professional. They both were. He knew this kind of thing could happen before getting involved with Minnie. The circus is a small world. If something doesn't go right, you might have to live with it for a while. Again, they were pros. Breaking up did not mean they stopped being clowns. No longer a clown's clown, maybe. He had done that, all right. Hadn't been as much fun as he expected. Clowns aren't a faithful bunch, by and large.

Fourteen clowns had already gone through the trap door. He heard the audience laughing louder as each did their "Free at Last" posture, bursting through the tiny car door. He paused, closer to the ladder, hands grabbing the rung just above shoulder height, and looked up to get his timing right.

He was staring straight up Minnie's skirt, peering right at her red and white striped pantaloons. His pantaloons. She insisted on wearing polka dots until they hooked up and he convinced her how much better stripes were on her. Especially in the over-inflated tire roll. Loved that gag. After they shopped in the clowns store in Sarasota, where he bought these as a gift, she looked great doing that one. Never better, when she rode it over the top, legs spread wide and did her butt drop in the dirt. Like a million bucks. Even she admitted he was right about that one.

They started the climb, as each of the remaining clowns went for a bigger laugh than the one coming out before. He was on the verge of tears, waiting his turn. Wait. He was a clown, for Christ's sake

"Act like a professional, Paulee."

Minnie looked down at him over her shoulder when he said that, trying to figure out what was happening.

"What did you say?"

A little more defensive than she intended but there were still some bad feelings after she caught him skulking around Mr. Wiggles trailer, that night. It was weird, you know? How was she supposed to feel?

The clown  ahead of Minnie was out, sending her scrambling up the final rungs before Paulee could answer.  He heard the pennywhistle blasting on the P.A. and imagined her tumbling and rolling as she made her reveal.

Which is where he broke every rule in the book, remaining stationary on the ladder when he should have been directly behind her, near enough to press his cheeks against her red tights and imagine her massive shoes at the end of his cot. He couldn't do it. Watching her perform was breaking his heart. Couldn't make himself continue with this exit and let them get on with the routine.

He stood, head upturned, his grease-painted face awash in the arena lights streaming through the open hatch. Then Minnie's face appeared, staring down. He knew her well enough to guess she was doing the bewildered "how many of us are stuffed in this car, after all?" act for the shills up top. At the same time, she was trying to figure out what the holdup was. Why was he botching the skit?

He folded the fingers of his gigantic right glove with his left, sculpting a most expressive bird of the white fabric and raised it above his head to be sure she couldn't miss it. Then, stepped down from the ladder and walked away.