Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

Sad Clown (4) One day Jimmy and Sarah were walking in the city. The streets weren’t paved with golden bricks. The music wasn’t divine. The bright colors were just street-lamps and signs and not precious jewels. Jimmy bent down to comfort a little boy. “What’s wrong?” Jimmy asked. “My sister laughed at me.” “Sisters do that.” The boy pointed at Sara. “Is she your sister?” he asked. “No,” said Jimmy. “She’s the girl I’m going to marry.” Then Jimmy’s mask slipped, secrets unwarily revealed. But there were no sad-clown tears on his cheeks underneath. Suddenly the future was a doorway opening to heaven.

Sad Clown (3) The girl who loved Jimmy saw the world in gold. She imagined kissing him under a silken sky, watching the river deepen to black while lights painted the city streets like heaven. She imagined Jimmy’s hands parting her robe and touching the golden sheen of her satin skin. Sometimes Jimmy liked to look through his girlfriend’s mask and see her perfect world. Then he and she could be the only ones who knew what was really there. Till the mask slipped and the gray of winter’s stone and frozen mockery showed through. Sometimes Jimmy wished the world was really gold.

Sad Clown (2) When Jimmy grew older he had so many masks—sweet little brother that’s always playing tricks, sweet comforting friend that lends a listening ear, sweet serious student that knows professors’ picks, sweet cheerful grandson, always sure to appear. Jimmy’s masks were painted with smiles—strange because he’d decided long ago that being happy was too much effort. But the sad-face mask that he wore on his own didn’t make him feel any better. He’d learned that tears are pretend as well, and forgotten what was real. When Jimmy grew up he remembered the crying clown and punched his big sister.

Sad Clown (1) Jimmy was going to be the clown. He had a smile wider than the gap between his teeth, but his sister said everyone would laugh. “They’re supposed to laugh,” said Jimmy. “Yes, but they’ll laugh because you look silly.” “Do not.” “Do so.” And his smile faded. “Oh dear,” said the make-up lady when she saw Jimmy. “If you’re going to look so sad young man, we’ll have to make you into a crying clown. Just don’t shed any real tears, or the make-up will run.” Jimmy remembered her advice. Looking sad’s okay, but you have to pretend it’s pretend.