Changing is Sometimes for a Good Cause

To go into a local restaurant's bathroom. To find a stall that is empty, to then open your gym bag, rustling through your gym bag, to find the costume you will be wearing.

You reach over and open the garment bag that has your new, pressed costume, the one you will wear to do your "gig" for entertainment, and you giggle.

It's your first time getting into your costume, feeling silly and slightly embarrassed, you dress in your getup and are walking to the bathroom sink to apply your make up.

You place your nose and your wig on, making sure they are straight, then grabbing your garment bag and your gym back, you exit. In the dining room area, are all these screaming kids, some are happy, some are scared, some are just drooling and watching you make your way to the stage.

You place your gear behind the curtain, proceed to grab the microphone, start to say something, when you hear a boo, in the room. You are once more embarrassed, trying to laugh it off. Then you hear a "hiss" and a boo.

Seems one of your observers, is not too keen on your costume, and they are just being funny, but then the whole room begins to boo. "What in the world is going on?" You look into a mirror, seeing that you are missing something, then running off stage, retrieve your cane and hat.

Returning rather quickly, you then no longer hear any "hissing" and neither any booing. You are relieved to only hear cheering and see that they are now ready for you to perform. You do your vanishing act, your pull "stuff" out of your hat, you even do some new things that will become part of your act.

You ask several people to participate in your act(s), and some are willing, some are scared, and some may never forgive you if you had not done the act correctly. Then you proceed to share in several birthday wishes and as you call each to the stage, you are aware, one of the children is hiding over by the curtain, stage left.

The seemingly shy child, motions for you to come over, and as you approach, the child leans in to whisper something in your ear. But instead with a loud voice he says, "You are surely not going to forget the main event, are you?" With that you stumble backwards and fall off the stage. The laughter, at your misfortune, is deafening.

You promptly get up, dust yourself off, then head to area where the children are now sharing their birthday surprises and happiness. Each one opening their presents and looking at their parents, with excitement and glee.

They, at first, are unaware of your presence, not thinking twice of you being there, then they are through with opening presents and are eating cake and ice cream, which they devour quickly.

No one has ever seen the person behind the makeup. No one has ever bothered to look or know. No one dares to find out who is behind the makeup. For to know would be one reason, the business would ban you for life.

You make your rounds, sharing in picture taking, sharing in the joy, happiness, and glee each child shares and, of course, will soon to be forgotten. Sometimes the happiness is all for show.

Tonight, there is more than one group of kids and adults, who will show up, sharing in this event or that event, booking well in advance and waiting in long lines, just to catch a glimpse of the "Clown about Downtown". Then you notice that you are less than presentable trying to fix a crooked bowtie or straightening your top hat.

Then as the night grows longer and more haggard, you look at the groups, seeing them fade away, along with the artfully arranged dining room. You run to the kitchen, expecting to see people moving around, hurrying to fill dinner orders and wait staff preparing to serve customers.

The scene fades away also, leaving many leftovers from your memories that make it all too real. You then begin to see yourself fade like a TV series, that was on for only one season. Like a one hit wonder, that never made it to the big time.

You had dreams, long ago and almost forgotten, about going to Hollywood, to make it big. But those dreams are now laid to rest and become nothing more than yesterday's news.

You leave the kitchen, heading to the bathroom, hitting the door to open it, and fall inward. You seem to notice that there is no sound of any kind, or anything that would show you that this was all a dream. You jump up, heading towards the stall, but there is nothing left there, unlike before.

You look down to see a body, once full of life, once a popular character in someone's long lost memory, only now to be forgotten and long since enjoyed, oh so long ago.

As you reach the body, you see someone looking back at you with empty eyes, a bottle in your left hand and two bullets in your chest.

Replacing the screaming children, are police officers, the medical examiner, and other officials.

You soon became aware that this was the reality you had met, not a pretty one, yet not a bad way to go. No more laughing children, no more screaming children, no more children from your time as a clown. They were all adults now, with children of their own and the faded memories of a clown known as Binko.

You sulk and are suddenly depressed at the idea that this once lively place, many generations of customers, some good and some not so good. Some shady and up to no good, and some watch out for the not so good people, who could bring the house down, eventually did just that.

How could you make them aware that once upon a time, when this area was filled with laughter more than tears, filled with happiness and joy, it made it part of the city, where it resided squarely.

You walk towards the opened door, pushing past many who never noticed you leaving, then on to the outside front door that needed repair. You watched as they finished, with the examining of the body, two medics raising the stretcher up, so to lift it up the lower steps completely.

You stood tall, walking over to the stretcher, laid down with the corpse, and became still. The era of laughter with Binko had ended and the end was finally complete.

As for those who were there, to investigate, to try to put the pieces together, to make sense of it all, few were sure it was never to be the same anymore.