Desolation by Tim Lebbon Read Free Book Online Page B

outfit; her breasts were heavy, the curve of her hips obvious. The takeaway was closed now, but the clown ate yellow, greasy rice from a foil container, and Cain had to wonder whether she had bought it or found it. She was a happy clown, with a smile drawn from ear to ear, eyes tall and wide, bright pink hat with a real red rose protruding from its tip. Her suit was baggy and extravagant, even though spilled grains of rice had spotted it with oil. That only added to the effect. It was a riot of color and texture, and Cain could not help smiling when he saw the beauty and wonder in that.
    I can see why kids love them so much
, he thought. But at the same time, a very adult fear rose from somewhere deep inside, a fear of anonymity and disguise, of
inhumanness
, and he remembered reading somewhere that
everyone
is afraid of clowns.
    â€œNice day!” the clown said, jumping up and spilling rice across the ground. She danced over to Cain, long shoes slapping on the pavement, arms waving high and low. “Lovely day for catching a sunbeam—shall I get you one? Oh, I see you already have one!” She reached for Cain, tickled his ear, and pulled her hand back trailing a long piece of yellow crepe paper. “Put them in your ear andthey’ll burn your brain,” the clown said. “Singe it. Scorch it. Melt it, and then someone will smell the burning and come along and eat it!”
    Cain was speechless. His heart thumped, everything told him to back away and leave, but at the same time he found the display compulsive. Such sensory overload from one person, and Cain knew the siren was nowhere inside him, no threat at all.
Maybe I was meant to come this way
, he thought.
Maybe this is good for me
.
    The clown turned and bent down in front of him, pulling her baggy trousers tight and wiggling her rump. Then she stood again, performed a perfect forward roll straight through the spilled rice, turned to face him and stuck out her tongue, blowing a shower of glitter into the air.
    Cain looked around to see if anyone else was watching. There were a few shadows in the window of the grocer’s, but he could not see their faces. Some cars passed along the road, but none of them stopped. For now he had this moment to himself.
    What would my father think of this?
Cain thought, and he laughed out loud. Right then, the sense of being his own person was very strong.
    â€œFuckity-fuck, my tits wobble in this getup,” the clown said, slipping hand over feet in an impressive display of acrobatics.
    â€œPardon?”
    â€œYou heard!” She paused, panting, and Cain saw beads of sweat smearing her complex makeup.
    â€œThat’s not much of a show for children,” he said.
    She shrugged her padded shoulders. “I adjust myshow depending on who’s watching. Don’t you?”
    â€œI’m not a clown.”
    â€œNot what I meant at all.” She sat down again, kicking the rice container aside, and leaned back against the window of the takeaway. “I’m fucking exhausted. You have no idea how much energy a little stunt like that takes. Fuck!”
    Cain was dumbfounded. He heard a door open and two old women came out of the grocer’s shop two doors down, glanced at the clown, and walked the other way, twittering like birds. A car came to a standstill at the curbside and disgorged three teenagers. Cain saw the father leaning across the front seats to get a look at the clown. The man caught Cain’s gaze, glanced away quickly, floored the accelerator, and pulled off. The three boys smiled, pointed, and started jeering. But then the clown stood and walked their way, and they turned and ran.
    She looked back at Cain. “Everyone’s afraid of clowns.” Her true smile twisted the painted one into a grotesque grimace, as if she had been struck across the face with an ax.
    â€œWho are you?” he asked, because he could think of nothing else to say.
    â€œOh, I’m so