JINKSY
The thunder shook the floor-to-ceiling windows in Dr. Shelly's office. Lightning flashed briefly afterward, turning the night into day for a second. Bill Franken sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped so tightly together that the tips of his fingers were turning white from the effort.
Dr. Shelly peered over his glasses at Bill. “Feeling tense Mr. Franken?”
Bill focused on relaxing his hands. He should have known better than to allow the good doctor to see him like this.
“Not tense Doc. Just…..” he trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts and find the right words. In this case, the right words were simply the ones Dr. Shelly wanted to hear. The words he needed to say in order to convince him that he, Bill Franken, was not insane. “It’s just the thunderstorm I guess. It sounds a little close for comfort”. He gazed out of the window for emphasis.
“We are perfectly safe in here Mr. Franken. That particular window would need a dozen bulldozers to break through it.” Bill always thought it funny how a shrink could use extreme exaggerations like that just to make a point while telling his patients to be as straightforward as possible.
Bill smiled and he hoped it was a convincing one. “Plus, it’s Halloween, Doc”. A slight, practiced nod from Dr. Shelly.
“And how does that make you feel?” asked the doctor. Bill hated that question. He thought it was therapy 101. His mother would ask the same question when he came to her with his problems as a child and she was certainly no therapist. There might be something to the psychobabble nonsense concerning things like talking out your feelings, making peace with the past, and speaking your truth but Bill’s truth was so far removed from the concept of reality that he couldn’t be honest. If he were completely truthful he would be locked away in a straight jacket.
Thunder rumbled once more, much closer this time, and Bill felt like he wanted to crawl out of his skin and hide under a table. The doctor sat behind his desk with a neutral face but Bill knew he wasn’t really neutral about any of this. If he couldn’t convince the fine doctor that he had seen the errors of his ways and confess to not experiencing something that he absolutely had experienced, he might spend the rest of his life behind bars.
Bill sat forward, “I feel…okay”, he lied, “A bit anxious but otherwise fine. I just can’t seem to shake some of those images out of my head. Even though they didn’t actually happen (oh yes they did) they’re still pretty vivid if you know what I mean”.
“And thus this visit. In order to proclaim you cured, we need to go over the details of last year’s Halloween night, Mr. Franken”.
Bill fidgeted on the couch but willed himself to stop. He needed to be convincing. He needed to be articulate. And he needed to lie. The good Doctor was not here for the truth. Oh no. He was here to hear his version of the truth. The version that made sense and didn’t involve supernatural clowns snatching innocent kids.
LAST HALLOWEEN
“Look, daddy, I’m a zombie princess”. Callie was dressed in a pink dress with a wide sash tied at the waist and puffy shoulder pads that made her look older than her eight years. Coupled with pasty makeup that made her look like a mole person who hasn’t seen the sun in decades and the copious amount of fake blood that she had splattered on the front of her dress and all over her face and arms and she did, indeed, look like a zombie princess. Although most people wouldn’t put that together, Bill thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. He was a lifelong horror movie fan and he had allowed his daughter to stay up with him some nights to watch a few tamer older classics. No Evil Dead or Texas Chainsaw Massacre, of course, but Night of the Living Dead was something they’d seen together a few times and Callie seemed to be less fearful and more entranced by zombies. But she was still an eight-year-old girl and loved Princesses and dolls as well.
Patricia nudged him with her elbow. “Remember this when she needs therapy later” his wife whispered to him. She wasn’t serious and had a smile on her face but Bill was smart enough to know that there was a hint of truth with what she said. Unlike him, Patricia had a keen dislike for horror movies preferring comedies or action films instead. She didn’t mind that Callie liked the things her daddy liked but she was very firm about how much of those things her daughter could watch, with or without daddy’s permission. Bill had adhered to her boundaries because he knew that, eventually, it would be Callie’s decision.
He took a moment to allow himself to just be happy. He had a wonderful family and a damn good life. And he was very aware that he was lucky and that many others weren’t so much. He was grateful and always tried to express his gratitude whenever he had the chance.
Turning to his daughter, he crouched down to her level and looked her costume over. “You are the prettiest zombie princess I’ve ever seen,” he told Callie.
“Daddyyyy”, Callie sighed, “zombies ain’t pretty. They’re scary”. To prove her point she put her arms in front of her, hands outstretched and made a rawwwer sound. Bill and Patricia both pretended to be afraid and that made them all giggle.
“Right you are, Cal. What I meant was you look like a pretty scary zombie princess” Bill said. This seemed to placate Callie and the smile that crossed her face made Bill’s heart melt a little, as it always did. “Okay”, Patricia clapped her hands together, “Callie, go finish getting ready and be sure to bring a jacket in case it gets cold later”. Their daughter skipped off, anxious to get started on the trick or treating.
After she left, Patricia turned to her husband, “So what’s the plan then? Home by nine, right?”. She raised one eyebrow for emphasis as if this wasn’t a question but a demand. He gave her a hug. “Yeah, about that time. We’ll go around here first and then take a drive to Bently Avenue for the last hour or so."
She unwrapped herself from his arms, “Bently Avenue? Are you going all Monopoly man on me? We’re not quite in that tax bracket yet” she reminded him.
“Yet being the key word there, my dear. Besides, that’s where all the good stuff will be. If we’re going to find king-sized Peanut Butter Cups that’s our best bet”.
She smiled but shook her head, “You’re willing to drive all that way for something you could get from the grocery store?” she asked.
“Hey, a man has needs, and buying them isn’t the same”, he said with a half grin.
“Well”, she said snuggling up to him, “A woman has needs too. Be back by nine-thirty at the latest and I’ll give you a real treat”.
Bill snapped to attention and gave an over-the-top salute, “yes ma'am!”.
BENTLY AVENUE
So far, it was a pretty good Halloween. Callie already had her pillowcase bag two thirds full with various sweet sugary treats and Bill figured once they left Bently Avenue, her bag would be overflowing. Even though he allowed her to eat a few pieces of candy, he was still surprised at her determination. She loved Halloween and all the traditions as did Bill and he thought about how great it would be to have all that energy again seemingly reserved for children and coke heads. Truth be told, he was getting a little tired already but Callie seemed unaffected by their long walk around their neighborhood. He could see her from the corner of his eye as he drove up to Bently Avenue. She was almost bouncing in her seat, ready to start phase two of their Halloween.
When they pulled up it was a bit of a disappointment. Hardly any of the lights in the houses were on and it looked like some people had already removed their decorations aside for the year. The Avenue was quiet with a few stragglers heading home, bags full of treats and walking with their heads down after a long night of revelry. But, still, there were a few houses left and Bill was actually kind of relieved. He would make it back by nine thirty after all.
As soon as they stepped out of the car, he noticed that the wind had picked up quite a bit, whipping Callie's hair. "Put your jacket on, honey" he told her. She gave him a look that showed her displeasure but reluctantly did as she was told. His footsteps rang hollow on the asphalt as dry dead leaves whirled around his feet and legs. He looked around to determine their plan of action and as he did a faint whiff of something hit his nose. Bill scrunched his face in disgust at the smell. It had an odor of burning sugar with a lingering aroma of decay right underneath it. Not enough to be pervasive but there nontheless. The wind changed direction and the smell was gone. He turned to his daughter and he saw that she was already slowly making her way somewhere behind them.
“Cal, stay with daddy.” he cautioned her.
Callie, never one to be disuaded once she had an idea said “But, daddy, I wanna go to that house” and she pointed in the direction they had come from. Bill turned to look and his mouth fell open. How could they have not seen this on the way in? The house sat a little off the road but was lit up, the two houses flanking it as dark as night. It was a single story home with bushes in front of two windows on either side of an almost comically large front door. But what really stood out were the decorations. The house was decked out with the Halloween spirit. Lights, jack-o-lanterns, cardboard cutouts of old school monsters in the window, styrafoam gravestones set in the front lawn, and fake bodies hanging from the branches in the trees beside the home.
All the lights appeared to be on and Bill thought it strange that he hadn’t remembered seeing it as he initially drove past. It was very hard to miss, in fact. As the wind increased intensity, Bill shivered and made a decision.
“Okay honey, but just this one more house and then home. Deal?”
Callie beamed at her father and squealed with delight. She turned and walked briskly to the house, bag firmly in hand, as Bill watched from behind the car. He smiled as he watched her approach the house. Her eyes darting first one way and then the other in awe of the decorations. She climbed the three steps to the front door and he saw her knocking as the words trick or treat floated on the air back to him.
The door opened and he saw Callie take a tentative step back. His heart beat a little faster and he was about to run up to the house until he caught a glimps of the owner. Whoever this was clearly loved Halloween and came to the door in full clown costume. Bill could tell it wasn’t a hastily made costume either. Oversized red shoes, three puffy buttons running up the polkadot onsie, frills around the ankles and cuffs, red tufts of hair sticking out of the sides of the head, and a giant bowtie at the throat. The makeup was perfect as well. As if it wasn’t makeup at all. But that was a ridiculous thought. The clown smiled pleasantly. He (she? It was hard to tell from here) lifted a hand and waved at Bill before bending over to address Callie. Bill waved back when his phone began ringing.
“Hello” he answered, turning his back to protect himself from the wind.
“Hey babe. Are you guys almost finished? You should get back and eat something other than sugar before going to bed” Patricia said.
“Sure thing. We’re just finishing up at the last house. You should see it. It’s….” Bill turned back to describe it to his wife but, instead, his arm started shaking. It felt like dead weight and he dropped his phone as he no longer had the strength to hold anything. Even the wind felt as if it was turning him around like one of the leaves still playfully circling his legs. His mouth was open but nothing was said and his eyes might as well have been two marbles in empty lifeless sockets.
It was gone. The house wasn’t there and in its place was an empty lot with withered scraggly grass. Callie was nowhere to be seen and he could feel the bile rising in his throat. Dizzy and disoriented, he attempted to move. He wanted to run and scream his daughter’s name. Instead, he stumbled weakly on his useless legs and his scream was nothing more than an empty wheeze carried away into the night by the breeze. Fear gnawed at his gut like a family of rats gnawing away at a dead racoon in a dumpster. Tears stung his eyes and he dropped to his knees, unable to support his own weight any longer. The bile caught in his throat and he released its hot chunky substance onto the road. He finally found his voice and screamed.
AFTERMATH
Three months later, Bill’s wife left him. Nothing had been the same since that night and even though he’d always felt that their bond was unbreakable, it had started slipping away that very Halloween night. The accusations came fast and furious from all sides. Rumors started spreading that he was a suspect in the murder of his daughter. The police had questioned him so many times he’d lost count. Each time was excruciating. Nobody believed him. Houses didn’t just disappear into thin air. There were no such things as clowns on Halloween that preyed on little girls.
“What really happened?” they’d ask time and time again.
“Just tell us the truth and we can cut you a deal”
“At least tell us where the body is”
“If you’re trying for an insanity plea, it’s not going to work”
He’d heard all of this so many times his head felt like it was in a vice. His job had decided it wanted to disassociate itself from him and he now lived in a gray dirty studio apartment about the size of a closet. His wife had stopped answering his calls altogether.
Despite this, he never stopped looking for Callie. Every night, rain, snow, hail, or otherwise, he walked the five miles to Bently Avenue. He searched the empty lot where the house had been. He wandered up and down the streets calling for his daughter. He didn’t care about the strange stares he received or the ocassional police cars that would crawl by him as he was disturbing the peace. He didn’t even worry about anyone believeing him. He just wanted, needed, to find his daughter.
Doubts had started to seep into his thoughts however. He would have nightmares of Callie looking up into his eyes with a pair of hands held tight around her throat as she gasped for air and pleaded for mercy. The nightmares would show him grisly images of his daughter in various horrifying poses. Sometimes her body would be bent and contorted at impossible angles. Sometimes, parts of her would be missing. Other times, she would be spewing blood from wounds that looked like they were made by a wild animal.
Bill would always wake up screaming, the traces of his tears still moist on his skin. He lost weight and stopped taking care of himself. He didn’t hurt his daughter. He knew this with a certainty that was his only lifeline to sanity. But, still, the doubts kept trying to claw and dig their way into his mind. Trying to drive him to suicide. The thought of being reunited with her his only desire.
He didn’t quite remember how he’d met Doctor Shelly. Through the blur that was his past, he assumed he had been forced to the Doctor by one authority or another But he was assured by the good Doctor that he could be helped and that he could find peace within himself again. All he would have to do is face reality and let go of the fantastical story he’d been clinging to all this time. And the Doctor had said it was pro-bono.
Doctor Shelly never accused Bill of anything but it was also obvious that he didn’t believe Bill’s story either. He’d been going to his appointments faithfully, trying to piece everything together in his mind. Perhaps even to convince himself of an alternate truth of the events. Anything to stop the nightmares and strangle the guilt he’d felt for the past year. His guilt was all consuming, an unstoppable wild fire that ravaged and destroyed anything in its path until his life would be nothing but ashes and blackened ground where once was beauty and life.
Despite Bill having a dislike for therapy, he went anyway. The police had never formally arrested him but he still remained a person of interest in the case. There was no evidence that Bill had done anything wrong but he had been judged in the court of opinion and found guilty. He may not be in a cell but he was certainly far from free. He had enough wits about him to know that, sooner or later, the police would be forced to make an arrest and close this case. And he was the only suspect. The only witness. And the last person to see his daughter. If he could lie convincingly enough to the Doctor maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to convince the authorities to look in another direction.
Maybe Bill could "remember" another person that was there that night which he had completely forgotten about due to the stress of the situation. He could give a vague description of this person and take the heat off of himself. But, of course, he would need Doctor Shelly’s belief in a story like this. Doc would have to sign off on it before taking it to the police. Bill would always know the truth. He just needed to bury it deep enough for a little while. So he needed to lie and have the most convincing lie of his life. That another man, definitely not a supernatural clown, had taken his daughter.
PRESENT DAY
“So, this man you claim to have seen, can you describe him?” Doctor Shelly was writing down everything Bill said. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not but at least the Doc was paying attention.
“I…I didn’t really see him clearly. When Callie went up to one of the houses I remember seeing a man walking past. Average height I guess. He had on one of those beanie type hats people wear when it gets cold, you know? His head was down but he appeared twitchy. I thought he was just walking home from a party or something. He had on some kind of costume. It looked like some kind of clown outfit. I guess that's where this idea of a clown came into my head".
Doctor Shelly continued writing but Bill couldn’t discern anything from his expression. He hoped he was convincing. That his remembrance of this man was due to his therapy and, because of the stress, his mind had not remembered him at all until now.
“Please contimue”, the Doctor said.
“Well, like I said, I caught just a glimpse of him. That’s when my wife called me. I turned around to take the call and…” Bill turned his palms up, “when I turned back around my daughter was gone and so was this man.”
Doctor Shelly placed his notebook and pen on his desk and steepled his fingers under his chin. His eyes pierced Bill’s and Bill found himself fidgiting under the weight of the stare. Bill’s foot started tapping on the floor and he could feel the first signs of sweat forming at his temples. Despite his obvious discomfort, the Doctor sat like a statue never taking his eyes off Bill. When the next roll of thunder shook the windows Bill let out a frightened yelp.
Doctor Shelly stood and faced away from Bill, seemingly staring at the wall of books which stood behind his desk. Then he giggled. A high pitched titter that made Bill’s blood run cold. The giggling soon escalated into snorts and shrill laughter as the Doctor’s head reared back and his body shook with each laugh as it filled the entire office.
The storm outside intensified and lightning filled the sky. The windows broke in a fury of glass and the wind rolled in, sending papers, folders, and other objects flying off the desk and swirling in midair as if by magic. Still, the Doctor stood where he was and his laughter became inhuman, gutteral and vicious.
Bill jumped out of his chair, sending it crashing to the ground. He ran towards the door and pushed with all of his weight. It didn’t budge at all. He frantically picked up the fallen chair and swung it at the door with all of his strength but the door held fast as the chair broke into pieces. Bill wheeled around and stared at the back of the Doctor. The unnatural sounds ringing in his ears, threatening to shatter his eardrums. The rain and wind continued to ravage the office.
The Doctor suddenly went silent and turned to face Bill. Bill’s mouth went dry and his senses numbed. From the front of Doctor Shelly’s shirt, three puffy balls appeared. Blue, red, and yellow tufts actually growing before his eyes. The Doctor’s face turned a sickly shade of white and colored makeup appeared to apply itself to his features. Bunches of red frizzy hair sprang from the sides of his head and his suit morphed into the familiar color and fabric of a clown outfit. The Doctor also grew, his body stretching until his head was a breadth of an inch from the ceiling. The clown smiled and rows of small sharp teeth glimmered in the light of the storm raging inside.
The thing spoke but its words sounded like a piece of metal over a gravel driveway, its voice deep, ragged, and each word spoken with a malice and intensity that set Bill’s bowels on fire.
“Why, hey there, Billy boy. I’m Jinksey the clown. Congrats on being cured”. It laughed so hard it made the storm nothing but a low level background noise. It stretched its mouth into an “0” shape. Wider and wider it spread until its entire face was nothing but an open maw of teeth and darkness. From somewhere deep inside of the beast a tiny scared voice broke through to Bill’s ears.
“Dadddyyyy…..help meeeee…..pleaseeee….” followed by a scream that Bill was all to familiar with. It was Callie.
“We have her and we’ll have you too, Billy boy”, it said as it advanced towrds a trapped Bill. Before it’s teeth rendered flesh from bone and limbs from muscle and skeleton, Bill had one last thought that made everything okay. At least I’ll have my daughter back. I’m coming to get you, Cal.
THE END