John Tarnum walked outside his trailer and headed to his mailbox. It was a beautiful day, the kind of beautiful day that, at one point in time, he might've savored. Now, however, they simply annoyed him. He groaned as he shielded his eyes from the suns ever present and relentless rays, and headed down the walk to his mailbox, tugging at the lid until it flopped open. He reached inside and grabbed his mail, then stood there and leafed through it momentarily. A few checks. Junk. A magazine subscription. And then...at the very end...there was a letter. A letter with clearly child written words on the front. This piqued his interest and so he slit the top and pulled out the paper inside, which had the same discernible child hand writing all over it. It read:
"Dear Mr. Stinko, thank you for coming to my birthday party! You were SO funny! I told all my friends who didn't come about you, and now they want you for their parties! I drew this for you! Love, Marie." And that's when he heard the plop sound. He looked down to the dirt and noticed another piece of folded paper, so he knelt down and grabbed it. He stood back up and unfolded the paper, and his eyes were immediately filled with tears. Inside was her rendition of himself, dressed as a clown, and the birthday girl, also dressed as a clown, having a lot of fun together. He wiped his eyes on his long sleeve shirt, then tucked the letter and the drawing neatly back into the envelope, just as his neighbor, an older woman named Harriet, came out to get her own mail. "Anything good today, John?" she asked. "...yeah, yeah there was," he replied, smiling like an idiot, before heading back inside. John Tarnum's life was awful, but every now and then, Stinko the Clown managed to bring a little bit of light into someone else's life, and that, he figured, was worth the effort. *** "Why would anyone ruin perfectly good pancakes by putting stuff in them?" Alexis asked as she, Lillian and Tyler sat at the table in the diner eating breakfast; she skewered a pancake piece with her fork, and held it up, seemingly examining it as she continued, "and why do I, despite knowing the outcome, fall for its lies every single time? You'd think by this point I'd recognize that pancakes with stuff in them are awful, be they blueberries, chocolate chips or anything else." "It's hope," Lillian said, biting into her breakfast sandwich, "you have hope. You so badly wanna be proven wrong that you keep believing there'll one day be a chance that a waitress will set down a plate of special pancakes and you'll finally understand the appeal. It's admirable, if anything." "...Ew, I'm hopeful? That's disgusting," Alexis said, making them laugh. "So," Tyler said, "what's everyone doing for their day off?" "I have errands to run," Lillian said, "laundry, groceries, you know, all that fun stuff everyone loves so much. You guys?" "I'm gonna go home, lie on the couch and watch nature documentaries about giant fish," Alexis said. "Oooh, I like that option," Tyler remarked, taking a sip of his coffee before saying, "I think I'm gonna do what Alexis is doing, but at my place. Maybe I'll bake something." "You bake?" Alexis asked, "That's so wholesome." Lillian checked her watch and groaned. "I guess I better get going," she said, nudging Tyler so he'd scoot out and let her free from the booth, which he did. She stood at the side of the table and pulled her jacket on, then pulled her long hair up into a messy bun and sighed, looking at them both before saying, "Welp, have a good day, don't get into trouble." Alexis and Tyler watched Lillian leave, then Alexis looked back at Tyler and said, "let's do crimes while she's gone." Lillian headed out through the main doors and into the parking lot. She pulled open her car door and slid into the drivers seat, pushing her keys into the ignition, then starting the engine before sighing again and pulling her rearview mirror down and looking at her face, her makeup job. She hadn't been feeling all that attractive lately, despite Josh's utter insistence that she was the most beautiful girl ever. She pushed the mirror back up and then backed out of the parking lot and onto the street, heading on her way to do her errands. Her princess dress was laying in the backseat of the car amongst other laundry, a vigilant reminder that no matter what day it was, she was never too far from being at work. *** John was standing in line at a bakery. He was looking at the pictures on the wall beside him, historic shots of the location, their opening, things like that. He'd been in line for 15 minutes now, and was beginning to get frustrated. How long's it take someone to order a box of donuts? After a minute of looking at an old advertising piece hung on the wall, he noticed the woman in front of him was looking back at him and sneering, which got his attention. "What?" he asked. "Can you believe this?" she asked, "she's holding up the entire line." John glanced around her and up to the front counter where he saw another woman, with a little girl beside her who happened to have a prosthetic leg. The little girl seemed to almost be in tears, and the woman - presumably the mother - looked fed up. John asked the woman to hold his spot, then walked past the line and up to the front where he stopped at the couple, both of whom looked at him. "Yes?" the woman asked. "Well it's just that you're holding up the entire line and I figured I'd do everyone a favor and figure out WHY that is," he said, shrugging. "Because I'm dealing with a child who doesn't understand the concept of 'no'," the woman said, "do you have children? Because if you don't, then I doubt you'd understand." "I had a daughter, yes, and I work with children every day," John said, "so what, she wants something and you don't wanna get it for her and she's understandably upset by this transaction, am I right in assuming what's happening here? Because it seems to me that she's already got a bum hand in life by being disabled. Not because being disabled is a bad thing, but because of how society will treat her for it. And then you, her own mother, is gonna tell her she can't have, what, a cookie? A pastry? The one person she should be able to count and depend on, especially in her situation, is gonna tell her she can't have a single nice thing that might make her day even a smidge better?" A silence filled the bakery, as everyone was watching now with baited breath. The woman, whose jaw was slightly ajar from this mans sudden approach and verbal assault, took a long deep breath and then blinked a few times, as if she was having trouble seeing what was actually happening in front of her. "Cause like it or not, your kid is disabled, and her world is already smaller because of that. Why take away one of the few creature comforts left for a child dealing with such a persistent life long issue?" John asked, "the person holding up the line isn't her for not understanding the value of 'no', it's you, for not understanding the value of 'yes' when said to her in the right moments. What do you want, sweetheart, what is it your own mother won't get for you?" John asked, kneeling down to the little girls eye level. She sniffled and wiped her eyes on her sweater sleeve, glancing up at her mother, then back at John. "I just wanted a sprinkle donut, that's all," she managed to whisper. John nodded, stood back up, ordered a sprinkled donut and, upon getting it over the counter, handed it to the little girl, before looking at her mother and smiling. "There," he said, "now she knows she can depend on strangers to make her feel better moreso than her own family. It's sadly a lesson we all must learn eventually," he said, before walking back to his spot in line. The woman in front of him, who'd been holding his spot, had the biggest grin on her face as she turned to look at him now behind her once more. "You were amazing," she said. "I do what I can," John remarked. And it's true. When it came to helping little girls, John Tarnum did what he could, no matter what the cost. *** Standing in the cereal aisle of the grocery store, looking at various boxes, Lillian couldn't believe her whole life could come to a grinding halt on deciding on breakfast foods. She heard a cart coming down the aisle behind her, which then stopped, and then she heard someone walk up beside her and looked down to see Maddy. "Hey!" she said happily, as Maddie hugged her around the waist; Lillian glanced around and asked, "are you...are you here by yourself?" "No, my mom's here, but she's in the bathroom so she told me to push the cart by myself for a bit and go get some cereal," Maddison said, "...what kind of cereal do you like?" "Oh god, all of it, honestly, and that's the problem," Lillian said, "do I want something that's pure sugar, do I want something that pretends it isn't pure sugar but is almost pure sugar, or do I want something that's so healthy that it's inedible and the equivalent of eating a rotted garden hose?" Maddie laughed, and Lillian smiled. She liked these times when she and Maddy were alone. It reminded herself of being a child with her own mother, when they did get along, when things were actually good, when she wasn't doing pageants. "I like the ones that come with toys," Maddie said, "but they don't really do that much anymore." "It's true! A time honored tradition killed by a poor economy," Lillian said, shaking her head, "when will the senseless killing end?" Just then they heard someone walking up behind them, and they both turned to see Maddie's mother, Jessie, standing there. She was just standing there, watching Maddie interact with Lillian, and smiled when the girls turned to see her. Lillian felt something drop in the pit of her stomach, and she tucked her hair back behind one of her ears, smiling nervously. "H-hi," she said, "uh, I'm Lillian Phillips, I'm a friend of your daughters babysitter, and your daughter, I guess." "I know who you are," Jessie said, "it's fine, you don't have to be nervous. Thanks for keeping her company while I was in the bathroom. So, you find some cereal you like?" Maddie nodded, grabbing a box and tossing it into the cart, then waving goodbye to Lillian. Jessie also waved goodbye to Lillian, and together they continued on down the aisle. Lillian stood there, somewhat speechless but also uncertain of what Maddie's mom must think of her. Why would a grown woman wanna be friends with a little girl? It didn't strike Jessie as weird at all? And certainly, Lillian had no creepy ulterior motives. She was just genuinely concerned for Maddie's well being, as was Rina, but from the outside looking in, especially as a parent, it had to seem strange, right? Lillian sighed and picked out a few boxes of cereal herself, then continued with her shopping. She figured she'd take her dress to the cleaners next. After all, she had to be back at work the next day, and a princess certainly couldn't be seen in a dirty gown. *** John couldn't get the little girl from the bakery off his mind. He hated parents like that woman. Parents who intentionally made their childs lives a living hell for the sake of teaching them something, when in reality they're teaching them the wrong things in the worst ways. He wanted to talk that woman down some more, but there was only so much you can say to someone like her. Eventually your words of wisdom go in one ear and out the other. John chewed his lip and thought about his daughter, fighting back tears. He came to a red light and stopped, tapping along on his steering wheel with his fingers to the song on the radio. His eyes casually glanced down and noticed the wedding ring on his finger, and he smiled a little. The light changed to green again, and he kept driving. What was it, he wondered, that made people unable to think about how it feels to be a child? At what point in life does a person seem to lose the ability to remember how big and scary and unfair the world once felt, and not because the world is actually those things, but simply because you were so young it just seemed all that much worse. On one hand John hated pseudo science, and laughed at the idea of the 'inner child', but on the other hand he knew full well it was a real thing, and that by scoffing at it, he was only hurting himself and his work. He knew that kids who didn't enjoy being kids often hate being adults, and long to be kids again when they're older. If you don't have a happy childhood, your chances of having a happy adulthood are even less, he found. But he couldn't think about it for too long, because not only did it depress him, but he was so lost in his thought that he didn't see the car in front of him had stopped again, and he hit them. Metal on metal, glass shattering from the taillights, John immediately swore under his breath and climbed out of the car. As he walked around to the front, he saw the driver of the other car getting out as well. A long hair brunette, tall and lanky, surveying the damage. She sighed and ran a hand through her shiny hair as John approached. "I am SO sorry," he said, "Sincerely, I'll...I'll pay for any damage and-" "No, it's fine, I co-own a business, I have good insurance," she replied, "I'm just...I'm gonna need a ride to work now because I can't show up in not just a jalopy but a beat up jalopy at that." "I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry, I wasn't...I wasn't paying attention, and, god, lemme give you my card, and you can call me and we can work something out and-" He began to dig around in his wallet, before pulling out a business card and handing it to her. He then knelt down and inspected the taillights, as if he knew anything about what he was looking at. The woman looked at his card and then looked down at him. He was rubbing his forehead and sighing profusely. "Christ," he muttered, "uh, look, I'd still like to give you something, money or something, and-" "Stinko?" she asked, as he slowly rose back up and looked at her, one eyebrow raised as she continued, "Stinko the Clown?" "Yeah, I...I'm a clown, I do parties, sorry it's not the most professional card or name, but-" "...you performed at my birthday," the woman said, "Do you remember me? My name is Lillian. I was...I was hiding out in my plastic castle in the backyard when you found me and you were kinda drunk, and...and you just hung out with me for a while. Do you...do you remember me?" John pushed his hands into his coat pockets and exhaled, shaking his head. "Holy shit does time fly," he said.
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A young woman named Lilian Phillips, who plays a princess at birthday parties, befriends a little girl who had a child die at her own birthday party. Archives
April 2024
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