Long Time No See

The way he looked at me - deep in the eyes no fear although there was nothing to be scared of yet. His face paint masking his pale skin, the white chunky base masking all his imperfections. I knew too well it was kids paint - even as a teenager I loved approaching those little booths filled with kids half my age to get my face painted, I'd pretend I was a cat making my little cousin giggle. I looked back at the man, the blue diamond make up surrounding his eyes was too dark to be called black and yet from far away it seemed like it. He had red lipstick smeared unevenly around his lips as well as a soft nose of the same color. To this point I could somewhat tell he was a clown, one of those clowns that seemed wanting and friendly, although the majority of people would call them quite the opposite in other words - wanting to devour your soul and unfriendly. You might have already guessed I was peculiar and odd. I mean what teenager is cheesy enough to go to a face paint booth unless it’s a VERY loving mother? And besides why would I be one of those weird girls that have an obsession over some dumb clowns and found them amusing? The thing is I grew up slowly, technically I’m still stuck at the age of eight with a teenager's face masking all my fear of being left out and the 8 year old attitude I still have, which makes me extremely socially awkward and uncomfortable beside basically all the age groups. I either act too foolish or look too old - I never fit in. I looked back at the spot in which the seemingly friendly clown used to be standing in - but no - something had changed, it seemed like a second and yet he was gone. 

“Rosey, you okay hon?” 

I panicked - How long has my mom been calling me for? Seconds, hours, minutes? No, don't be silly, why hours? You have literally been here for an approximate of forty minutes and besides why worry on one of the most important days in your life? 

“Hon?” - My inner voice was interrupted by a sudden high pitched squeal coming from my mom.

“Yeah?” I answered not really concentrating too hard on what she was saying amused by the way the clown disappeared.

“Granny is calling, you wanna answer?” She handed me the phone still warm, projecting her heat onto my hands, the only thing I needed was an irritatingly sweltering and overheated phone on this insanely bleak and cold October morning. 

I answered the phone:

“Hi grandma!” I screamed into the mobile.

“Oh hello there my Rosmery.” Her old voice seemed happy to hear mine, it was painful to listen, to hear her speak so quietly knowing that her time will soon come to an end as all good things have one.

“Sooooo….”  I said to fill the silence.

“Oh yeah, happy sweet 16, hopefully you will stop doing all that childish stuff!”

“MOM!” My mother interrupted projecting her voice in a loud manner.

“What? I’m just saying that the child has to let go of being such an eight year old!” My grandma replied like she did not realize the insult. Although I’m okay with her insulting me like that, I mean I technically still feel eight so I guess there is nothing wrong. You know, you have to appreciate everything she says before her story comes to an end, before all those good memories start fading away unless they already did.

My mom clicked the red phone button and disconnected.

“We will not tolerate that toxic behavior around my child!”

“Mom there is literally nothing wrong with saying I act like an eight year old, I mean look at me!” I screamed, already annoyed by the way she spoke about my grandma.

“Hon do you even want to be here? You keep on looking at the trees.” Now she just seemed really mad and frustrated.

“What do you mean? I love theme parks and carnivals!”

“We can just ride home, besides your dad’s head hurts and we can do our annual attic search!” I know - annual attic search, again don’t I seem weird? The annual attic search is a tradition that my parents recreate each year on my birthday. We get to go into the dark room, turn on the lights and start searching for stuff that we find cool and we want to keep. Last year I found this really creepy doll called Anabell, but that’s a story for another time. 

“Yessss!” I squealed.

“Okay well then come on!”

I looked at the dark trees which used to be filled with various colors that disappeared over the rapid 20 minutes of sunset. The moon was bright, lighting up the grass which continued on eternally, I was riding home. The headlights of our car were exploring the unknown of the road ahead of us, there was no one but us, the lonely car filled with three people. I heard a noise.

“What was that?” I questioned.

“What do you mean Rosey?” my mom asked

“Nothing.” I replied almost emotionlessly thinking that I had only imagined it.

I looked to the side from which I heard the sound. It was dark, only a faint street light brightening the night. There were a few bushes and colorful leaves as well as him - there he was, the clown standing there looking exactly the same as at the carnival. But there was something different - something has changed in him. He looked the same except he was creepily smiling with his teeth which were looking inhumanly all yellow and sharpened to the last bit. They looked like the smaller version of the shark teeth people wore on necklaces except for him having 2 rows of them all yellow and pointy. In his hand he was gripping a large balloon, I could not tell its color, it was too dark with the street light being too little. The last detail I could spot was the large piece of unevenly cut cardboard he was tightly gripping in his hands. “Happy birthday I heard granny called!” I read the bold letters written on the object. 

I avoided looking out the window until I returned home, I looked down at my feet and closed my eyes hearing my mom constantly ask me if I'm sleeping. I let out a big sigh of relief when the car came to a stop and I entered the house. Maybe I was weird, maybe I liked clowns, but I am sure I do not like them stalking me. I knew too well what I saw outside but I decided to put it aside, pretend nothing happened. Why worry? 

“Who’s ready for the attic search?” My mom screamed with excitement.

“Not me!” I heard a groan coming from my dad - his head was still pulsing from all the loud music at the carnival. 

“Well I am!!!” I screamed frantically 

“Come Hon” My mom replied

I walked up the old creaking stairs partially broken and scratched all over, probably because of all those heavy suitcases my dad used to carry down each time we went traveling. But no, not anymore, I did not travel science summer two years ago. Once I asked my dad why we stopped traveling. The room went quiet and we never talked about that again. I guess it will forever be a mystery.

Entering the old room I breathed in the old attic air bringing back all the ancient memories of me and my parents searching through the dusty broken down boxes not knowing what we will find next. 

“Rosie I will just get a small cup of water for the both of us.” my mom informed me coming down the stairs still creaking under her weight - uhhhh brings back some good memories doesn’t it? I thought.

There were four lamps and yet I haven’t chosen to light up any of them, I chose to sit - sit in the dark separating myself from the outer world. And even though I did not have any artificial lights turned on I could still see as for the dim gleam escaping the arched attic window. I looked out, there was nothing in the sky except for the tiny moon which was the source of the illumination filling my attic and letting me see. The grass was colorless - black and white. I twisted my head to the right staring at the side of the front lawn - there he was, again - the clown, the one I saw at the carnival and at the side of the road. He looked exactly the same as before. If you were to look at him now and then you would not see a difference, maybe that is because of the lack of light? He was holding a sign with large words that were not entirely visible to my poor eyesight but I could read a few letters and guess the rest. I read carefully trying to ignore the fact that a literal clown crept into my yard and stood there, for how long was he standing there? Hours, minutes, seconds? I ignored that question and figured out the letter combination on the sign: Hi again, I am BONZO! I could not figure out if there was a period, a question mark or an explanation mark at the end of the sentence, but I should not be worrying about that. I mean there is a literal stranger standing outside of my probably UNLOCKED house holding a now red balloon and a weird sign. 

I could not stand this - I turned my head away hoping that this was a dream, a hallucination, something that I have only imagined. I stared back at the window surrounded by the thick wooden frame with all sorts of scratches and pisces falling off. It was still dark - the same grass, moon and stars, but no clown. I let out a sigh of relief - he was no longer there. I knew it, this was something that I imagined, with a blink of an eye he disappeared nowhere to be found.

I heard footsteps, loud thuds rhythmically following the beat of my heart. Looking back I spotted my mom carrying a small glass of water- the liquid was still shaking in the container as for my mom walking up the stairs. I looked at her, through the last minute I forgot about her, I forgot about the attic, and the glass of water. The only thing I was thinking of was the clown, the window and the shimmer of the moon. 

“Rosie, what's wrong with you - why are you sitting in a dark room? Come on, there are plenty of lights that you could turn on. Don’t tell me that you are just lazy… again.” I searched for her expression, she seemed tired and yet happy to be here.

“Yup, just laziness… again!” I lied, I knew that if I told mom she would not believe me and even if she did she would not do anything about it… I had nothing to do about it.

“Oh hun!” She let out a sigh. Suddenly the lights turned on a bit after my mom pressed down the switch which enabled them to work. 

“Let’s dig in then! I will check out the left side of the room, you check the right.” She said marching forwards and then turning to the side of the room she picked. I started searching for a box that seemed intriguing, the only one that seemed interesting enough was dusty with bold letters written on it that read: VINTAGE UNOPENED TOYS. I read that with excitement knowing that another adventure would soon start. Slowly pacing through the lit up room I was inching closer to the package, when I finally got there I peeled off the tape which kept everything sealed inside. The well sealed cartoon was hard to get too as for the many pieces of tape stuck onto the lid. I pulled the sides and ripped open the box. Jackpot! It was full of unopened toys from the 80’s, think of all the vintage things that I could find there! The first toy I carefully took out was a… 

“Cabbage patch doll!” My mom squealed with extreme excitement - I guess she’s keeping that! Even if she would not want a creepy old doll with extremely chubby inflated cheeks I would not want it either. I mean a sour patch kids ripoff, unbelievable seems like something only a five year old and my mother would like to have. 

The next thing I took out was a small unopened red package which had white bold letters with black outlines written on it: JACK IN A BOX! Get yours today! I read it, I’ve heard about those plenty of times before but I never really got to see one in person. I carefully opened the small cartoon lifting up the lid, inside there was a vermillion plastic box with a small opening on the top. There was a little handle on the right side which I assumed was supposed to be pushed forward in order for the jack in the box to appear. I turned the small handle hoping for a cute (I suppose) clown to pop up, after 6 times of turning it I heard a sound *BONK* The toy appeared. It was all plastic with the shimmer of light reflecting on its smooth surface. It had white face paint almost identical to the clown I saw today, no, no get that out of your head I thought. “I, I,I, m, Bbbb,o” It said, it must have been sitting here for a long time, I mean it could barely say anything. 

“Try that again.” My mom said from the other side of the room.

“What?” I answered, I haven't really been paying attention to my mom wondering what the toy was trying to say.

“Try that again, the jack in the box, maybe it will work.”

“Okay.” I let out a sigh, my mom was wrong, things did not work like that, if something was broken it would not magically get fixed at least that is what I assumed.

I pulled the handle back and forth for over 7 times when the clown suddenly emerged from the box again. “I am BONZO!” It screamed. The words were followed by a creepy laugh, but no the laugh was not coming from the jack in the box it was coming from somewhere else. I looked around, another giggle, I could hear it more clearly now almost like it was in the room but not quite. Adrenalin started to build up in my body. I could feel my heart pumping faster and faster. My breaths were shorter and much more rapid. There was something weird about the window. I felt a magic force pulling me there. I stepped closer and closer to it. I was rapidly marching towards the window at this point. Another few giggles were getting louder and louder the closer I got to the glass framed with wood. Putting both of my palms on the clear surface I could not see anything yet until it popped up, he popped up. The same smile, face paint and balloon. His hands were getting closer and closer to the balloon *POP* I heard it break - red liquid escaping its plastic sides. The last thing I ever heard was him saying “I'M BONZO” followed by a creepy laugh and my mom stressfully screaming “He's back!”