The Circus Freak - and the boy who was afraid of clowns

Fourth chapter

FOURTH   CHAPTER

ON THE NEXT MORNING, JACIARA WOKE UP AT FIVE. She lived far from the weaving factory. The first thing she saw, as she was locking the door of Renato’s room, was the glow of light.

“How is that possible?” She thought. “I kill myself working overtime, I jeopardize my health, everything I do I do it for him. And he just leans on me, that nightmare. He burns my money by sleeping with the light on.”

“I think you've gone mad, Renato! Do you know how much it costs to have power in this house?” She woke the boy up yelling and pulling at his ear. The eyes, sunk in eye bags, opened up, and he saw his mother infuriated. His mother's finger pointed rigidly, exhibiting the contracted muscles. The boy got scared with the picture.

“Sorry, mom, I didn't mean to!” He begged. The shrunk shoulders anticipated the slap that was certainly about to come. Jaciara did not forgive him, sent the boy to school with no breakfast. And she said with disregard: “maybe hunger will make you think twice next time, you wretch! The money for the light is the money for the bread!”

On that day Renato felt a terrible stomachache. Fasting and medicine made his stomach burn. The sleepiness caused by the anti-allergenic added to the roar of an empty stomach.  He slept during class once again.

At night, he had supper with his mom, who was now calmer. She said that's how it was supposed to be: the mom, especially single moms, had to teach discipline and politeness.  She gave the boy a different look than that in the morning; showing love in her eyes. She tucked Renato in with a lilac blanket, too thin, good for warm nights. She left him with a warm humid kiss, and a pink lipstick mark on the forehead. Renato recognized the smell of alcohol. His mother remained more even keeled with the effect of the old habit.

“I will leave the light on, so you can go to sleep. I will turn it off before I go to bed,” said Jaci. She pulled the bedroom door almost shut, leaving it open just a crack. She recklessly thought she had fully closed it. From the boy's bed, the living room could be partly seen at the end of the hall. The arm of an old couch in the living room, the coffee table, and one of his mother's feet resting on it. The cup holder was sitting alone, staining the glass of the table.  Her nervous hand could barely leave the bottle of cachaça still.  She filled the cup every half minute.  Renato speculated, hoping for the torpor of the mother.

“Hopefully she'll sleep before me!” he thought.  “If she gets drunk and sleeps in the living room, she will not remember to come here to turn the light off.” 

The strands of light that he saw under the effect of the theophylline – and that evil clowns seemed to avoid – now had a name: they were fairies!  The white light would save the boy from the entrusted color of evil.  He asked the White Fairies to close his mother’s eyes.

The chandelier of clowns spinning did not seem to be a threat. He looked ostensibly at the little men with painted faces, one by one in the light of the lamp. The Red Fire Dragons, stuck in the purifying white light. He was very tired, fighting against sleep.  He feared that if sleep came, with the white light off, he could be harmed.  He covered himself with the thin sheet, leaving his feet uncovered. 

“What if they cut my feet?” He thought.  “I will never be able to walk again!”

He curled up under the small covering, solving half of the problem. But the sheet seemed smaller.  There was a tear in the edge of the fabric, which had been trimmed by his mother. It's better to have a sheet that does not fully cover, than to have no sheet at all. 

Renato was afraid to sleep on his stomach: “Son of a bitch clown!” He bawled. “Stick your finger in me, and you'll see what I'll do!” He shook his finger at the chandelier.  But who knows, maybe it was the truth?  Maybe the touch of light or of red fire could curse the blessed, and purify the rake. The point at which the light does not shine, nor does the fire burn, would be the weaknesses of the two.

***

The disguised clowns hurried to put Brenda in the trunk of an old Chevy Monza. She did not react. She figured that the violent men could cause her great harm if she didn't do what they wanted. She glanced at the chubby clown, whom she found to be less malignant, with puppy dog eyes.

“The girl will suffocate!” Hazardous said, shortly before getting a pistol shoved into his forehead.

“Get out of the way, fat bastard! Do something right for once and get in the car, go!” The fellow aggressor yelled. Cold-Foot pushed his crony into the back seat of the car. Still standing, he extended his right arm and picked up the gun, aiming it at the glass of the sentry box. The intercom phone insisted on ringing as it sat on the doorman’s table.  The bullet shattered the glass, and the doorman chose to throw himself on the floor instead of answering the phone. The car – which had been specifically stolen for the kidnapping – left skid marks on the asphalt. They left the district of Ondina. Bad-Luck drove like a maniac. He arrived at the district of Monte Serrat in less than fifteen minutes.

They got there even before the doorman had the courage to come out from underneath the table. 

***

As Renato looked through the gap in the door again, he saw a cloud of smoke.  On the coffee table there were three cigarette butts, one still ablaze. Four knocks on the front door. The clock in Renato’s room showed it was almost midnight.  Curious, the boy got up from his bed and ran to the door of his room. His mother answering the front door revealed a familiar face. In his right hand he carried a black umbrella with a lacquered wooden handle, which sheltered him from the torrential rains. In the other hand he held a bottle of national whiskey.

The boy was surprised to see the mother informally throw herself in the arms of the pnemonologist.  The black umbrella dropped on the floor of the entrance, allowing the outside rain to soak the lovers.  The few fine hairs of the doctor, wet and glued to his head, couldn’t hide his generous bald spots. He had come straight from the clinic, and wore all white. Jaciara wore a red, cotton, light and unlined dress.  The neckline was extremely low, she had designed it herself.  The handle was embracing the neck.  Her dark hair, tied back in a pony-tail, unveiled a bare back.  A kiss from the doctor made Jaci's muscles relax. Synergistic effect: alcohol, tobacco and sex.  The veins on her dark toned hand were completely engorged. She grabbed him by his white jeans pocket, bringing his thigh closer to her pelvis.  With the other hand, she took off the black pony tail holder to free her hair. Holding hands, they walked slowly to the caramel couch. Jaci pushed Leandro – and he fell on the couch, passive, looking at her fixedly – then sensually and slowly, she opened the zipper of the white pants. 

Renato gave up half the space there was between the door and the hatch. He was afraid of getting caught. He could still see everything, but safely. 

Jaciara glanced at the doctor. She smiled, perpetuating this moment full of excitement. Her fingers wondered in the hair lines, which were still tangled from being tightened with a cheap-jack holder for so long. Jaci’s black hair took a snakelike shape, and framed her brown-yellowish eyes.  These beautiful dark eyes washed over the body of the man with malice and desire.  Her forearms crossed down to the bottom of the red dress, which was quickly pulled off from the top of the head.  She tossed her clothes away from her, and unveiled a hairy cunt. Her smooth brown body surprised the doctor with a black, straight, hairy vulva.  The doctor was lying down, and she was still standing.  Jaciara's left foot landed on the back of the sofa.  Hands pinning his face, his body bent forward.  The pelvis of the young woman opened, thrusting, full of desire. She caressed his face with her cunt. Her head tossed her long hair back. 

For a moment, Renato forgot the demonic clowns up on the chandelier.