Challenge The Proud

Creative Clown Catastrophe

"calculating creative clown catastrophe" - Challenge No.17

IT WAS A COLD, windy night and Fred wished he was wearing a cozy winter coat instead of his worn out leather jacket. At least sneaking inside the funfair grounds was easy, even if uncomfortable. He crawled on the wet, chilly ground, under the fence and crouched pacing carefully toward an old, worn out tent that looked deserted. His knees were sticky with mud, and Fred tried to wipe them as best he could, using his jacket sleeve.

There were no stars out that night and gray clouds gathered over the moon, so he felt safe inside that darkness. Only ten yards away from the main dirt road where the rides and shops glowed their yellow lights. The scent of cotton candy and popcorn came with the harsh wind, and Fred shivered with a smile. He wondered how he could lift some of those goods from unsuspecting customers. Maybe just bump into a few guys, lifting wallets first. For a seventeen year old kid, Fred was pretty skilled at pickpocketing and proud of it. Since he was living on the streets, one day to the next, stealing wallets was actually a good skill to have.

Thinking himself presentable, Fred started to walk along the old tent, glancing toward the Haunted House. That would make a great first ride to sneak into. He could see a side entrance into the dark wooden construction and the lit cigarettes that looked like two glowing orange dots. Probably Dracula and his werewolf pal having their cigarette break between rides.

Fred snickered but his smile quickly faded as a rustling grew behind him. Men's voices, chuckles and grunts. Fred looked over his shoulder and he saw a few carnies carrying tools and flashlights. He knew that customers had no business in that part of the carnival, and so did the approaching carnies. Fred crawled under the drape, entering the old tent where he found himself face to face with an old fortuneteller machine.

Those low voices approached like a rumble and faded like a roar. He had dodged a bullet.

Fred covered his mouth to stifle his laughter. He flicked the nose of the old, plastic woman that was supposed to be a gypsy fortuneteller inside the machine. He then peered around, at the other things hidden in that tent. There was some light seeping in from the side nearest to the main road. It allowed him to make out the different shapes of old, broken down machines, or outdated objects. This was a storage tent, Fred concluded and wondered if there was anything in there that was worth taking.

He made his way through rusty chairs and dusty bags, his eye caught by a fluffy silhouette. Part of him considered the possibility of it being the mane of a fierce beast, hiding in the dark, ready to pounce him at first chance. He scoffed at his silly thoughts and grabbed the furry thing almost defiantly.

It was nothing more than a stuffed lion. In fact, there were a lot of toys there. Fred hid the lion inside his jacket.

A large, tall machine, towering over the middle of the tent, caught Fred's eye. He approached trying to figure out what it was. Something moved behind him and Fred looked over his shoulder. Just as he was about to shrug it off, something fell and bells jingled.

Was it the wind? Maybe it was something that he had touched and disturbed on his way to the machine and that fell from a precarious balance moments later.

Fred approached the dark area where he had heard the bells and crouched looking down. A hat. It was nothing more than a colorful hat with bells attached to its five tips.

He put the hat on his head and turned back to the tall machine in the middle of the tent. The machine had a large glass case that Fred's palm wiped over once.

The soft hum of playful music burst from inside the machine and it came alive, lighting up as if someone had just plugged it in. Fred stared at it in awe, unable to explain it, but caught by the lively display of colors coming from inside the glass case. It was a swirling fog of red, blue, yellow, green, and any other rainbow color. The thing inside was beautiful and mysterious and Fred wondered how it worked. Lights, fog, an interior fan maybe. His gaze noticed a small control board to the right, much like an arcade machine would have. Maybe those buttons controlled the colors and the interior fan.