Circus of the Dumb

Chapter 5: A Date with Jackson

Jackson had an appointment with the babysitter.

This wouldn't be his first; when the clowns left the trailer for prolonged periods of time, he was held in captivity beside the foreign presence until they returned, tormented by the frequent rattling that came from its place of origin. It was disturbing, not knowing what exactly he was fearing, though it was a familiar sort of concept to him now. Constant uncertainty, constant confusion and terror. He had almost begun to hopelessly bank on Pipette's teasing promises of release, wanting nothing more than to simply be spared of the clowns' antics at this point. He understood that his life would never resume its former state of normalcy.

The difference, this time, was that Jackson wouldn't be coming back. Papa Corn and his associates had spread him thin, wrung him out like a soggy towel until there was nothing left to gain from his deprived, weakened body. He could hardly hold himself upright anymore, relying entirely on the clowns hustling him around throughout the day, and it was evident to Papa that it was about time to move on.

Pipette made a simple request. "Can I play with him one last time?" she asked, as if the dispirited man were a children's toy. "Just to say goodbye." There was a small, almost innocent smile spread across her face, her gloved hands clasped before her in a subtle pleading gesture.

Papa Corn considered this, allowed his gaze to flicker between Jackson and the little clown. "I don't see why not," he determined as his lips twisted up into a mischievous smile. "Just be sure to leave him in one piece."

Jackson was only mildly wary of Pipette this time around, though he remained visibly timid as she approached, having waited for the trailer to empty once more before doing as she had so eagerly requested. She dragged over a free chair, casually situating herself before him and folding her gloved hands in her lap expectantly. "Well, the others will be caught up in their performance for a little while," she began, offering Jackson a warm smile, "so I thought maybe we could talk for a bit. Y'know, get to know each other a little better."

The silent victim hesitantly reciprocated her gaze, his eyes wide and filled with a familiar terror. His shoulders heaved with every breath, the side of his head splattered with dried blood. His mouth had been covered with duct tape again as a simple precaution, so Pipette couldn't have possibly expected much of a verbal response. He didn't make any attempt to speak, however, and some uncertainty crept along her features.

"You really are a quiet one, aren't you? I like that in a victim, don't get me wrong," she continued, her smile widening almost sympathetically. "But I'm not here to hurt you. I just thought maybe we could have a little chat. I don't gotta whole lot to do over here." She shrugged, lazily glancing around the room as if to further her point. "I'll even remove that duct tape for you, no sweat." She then reached forward to do so, hastily yanking the material down and off the man's lips before settling back in her seat, satisfied. The girl wasn't taking no for an answer.

Jackson took in a couple of relieved breaths at the small ounce of freedom, his eyes still warily locked on Pipette. They stayed that way for several moments, simply staring at each other as he tried to gather his scrambled thoughts. "What do you want?" he finally asked, the presence of his voice alone prompting Pippy's eyes to widen in mild surprise; perhaps she hadn't expected this to go anywhere. She frowned at the question, however.

"I already told you. I just wanna chat, nothing more, nothing less. I can't say the same for my friends, of course, but they're not here right now."

"What do they want?" Jackson corrected himself, his voice low and wavering on breathlessness despite the current lack of immediate danger.