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“Now what?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow.
I make a face. “Oh, just that song, ‘Macarena.’ It’s so annoying. I mean, it’s about a woman cheating on her boyfriend with his two friends. Why are they playing it in a children’s hospital?”
“It’s just the tune, not the lyrics. Calm down, Judge Judy.”
“Whatever. All right. Let’s get this party started.” I shove my hand into the bag, past the swag that I stuffed in there to hide my surprise.
He gives me a suspicious look. “What’s that smirk?”
“What smirk?” I said innocently, as I unzipped the bag and pulled out the clown costume. His eyes blaze in anger.
“What ... you can’t be serious.”
I stare him right in the eye, unblinking. “Dead serious. Deader than aDatelinedate serious.”
He shakes his head at me. “Absolutely no freaking way. I’ll walk.”
I bet he actually would, with no regard for the kids who are so excitedly waiting for him. Kids who are going through such a tough time, who are just looking for a little light in their day. What a self-centered jerkwad.
Irritation sizzles just underneath my skin. “Mason, try to stop thinking about just yourself for one minute. There’s a ward full of kids who are incredibly excited to meet you. They’ve hand-colored a banner for you. And kids love clowns. And you are going to go up there and entertain them, like you agreed to, or Mr. Talman’s going to bench you.”
His face flushes red. His mouth opens, then shuts. “You ... I ...”
I count at least six expressions battling with each other on his face while he searches for a response.
He grabs the costume from me and storms off to the bathroom.
Minutes later, he emerges, glaring bloody murder.
His costume has it all. Big multicolor polka dots. A red nose. Giant clown shoes.
“Revenge is sweet,” he growls at me.
“I’m shaking in my non-clown-sized shoes.”
I pick up my cell phone and dial the secretary. “We’re ready.” I sing out. “So, so very ready.”
* * *
Today we arein a children’s ward with ten beds. Mason is sitting on a chair next to one of them and I’m standing next to him, handing him swag.
“And here’s your very own Rover toy.” Mason the clown says, holding out the Rovers’ lovable dog mascot. His tone had all the fun and warmth of a man reading an eviction notice.
Six-year-old Juan looks at the Rover toy. “Go on, take it.” his mother urges him. He reaches out and takes it, then sets it down on his bed gingerly.
Juan is completely bald and has a neon-green square bandage on his neck. He’s wearing adorable Rovers pajamas with the mascot on them. He doesn’t look super pumped to see Mason, though. He’s picking up on Mason’s cranky vibes, and it is really ticking me off. I feel like dragging this out any further isn’t going to help cheer the kids up. It might make them cry.
I stand up, smiling at Juan. “Well, that’s it for today. Good luck with everything, Juan. It was wonderful to meet you. And don’t forget to feed Rover.”
I pick up Rover and say, in a high, silly voice, “I like ice cream.” That makes Juan smile.
Mason reaches out and shakes Juan’s hand. “I’m so glad to meet you, Juan. I hope you feel better real soon.”
“Okay,” Juan says.
“Thanks so much for coming.” Juan’s mother stands up and reaches out to give Mason a hug. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, then returns it.
This is really terrible.
