Diamond-shaped hole

I sit behind the wheel of my Camry, my face full of make-up, and bawl my eyes out. The beating of my heart hasn’t stopped so I place my hand on my chest. I suck in huge chunks of air and slowly release. My throat is a desert. The sun is doing a madness and as I bake in my jalopy held together with duct tape and hope, the white and red concoction on my face starts to melt. I pull off my rainbow wig. Right now, I don't want to feel like a clown. Besides, the magic was dead. Between sobs, my will gives way, shoulders buckle and head falls to the steering. A large honk goes off and I recoil in pain. God, I hate this car. Not as much as I hate her though. Not even close.

*****

A magician never reveals his tricks. That is the first lesson you are taught when you enroll at Campion’s Academy for Clowns and Magicians. I remember the furrowed brows, tilted heads, and never-ending speeches I received when I revealed to my folks that I wanted to enroll at Campion. 

“Don’t you wanna do something a bit more tangible?” my mother cried.

“No, mom. I want to be a clown magician.”

And I really did want to become a clown magician. Not only because from a very young age I had been enamored by the clever craft of blending elements of clowning and magic to create spectacles, but also because at Campion’s, performers or better yet party entertainers were allowed to pick where they wanted to work. The Zion children’s hospital was hands down my number one choice. I always wondered why little children who’d done no wrong were afflicted so severely. I jumped at the idea of bringing joy to their hearts.

The day of my interview at Campion’s began as a nightmare; I slept through my alarm, spilled coffee on my outfit, and my keys grew legs and ran away. I had to take public transport. Because I had spent so much time looking for my keys that ran away, I missed the first bus. The second one languished in traffic. Whoever said “You cannot control what happens to you, but you can control your attitude toward what happens to you, and in that, you will be mastering change rather than allowing it to master you” was right on the money with it. As I alighted the bus, I straightened my coat, pushed my hair back, and widened my grin. Campion’s was just as magnificent as I had hoped; the entrance hall was so wide with a ceiling so high it continued for miles. There were large windows that let in golden streaks of light. The walls had stripes of vibrant and cheerful colors ranging from red to violet. Its glossy surface let the golden sunlight ricochet off it, creating a bold and lively pattern that complemented the polished marble floors better than red wine with steak.

I walked up to the front desk and tapped the bell lightly. Out from a corner underneath the desk, she emerged in all her splendor. I noticed right away her mismatched hair color, quirky smile, and tender voice. Almost too stunned to speak, I stumbled over my words and struggled to hide my now red chili cheeks. She gently processed my papers, never saying a word more than she needed to, and led me down a wide hallway to a door that had ‘interview room’ boldly scribbled atop. The interview went by in a blur. I approached every question with the care of a surgeon, every move calculated and precise. The clown magician in front of me had a look that was difficult to decipher. Maybe it was the makeup. Two weeks later, my acceptance letter from Campion arrived in the mail. During those two weeks, the lady at the front desk was a song stuck in my head. 

Classes at Campion were enthralling. Getting to spend hours pouring over various items associated with clowns: oversized shoes, colorful wigs, red noses, oversized pants, and face paint while learning about the historical significance of a line of work I had so much love and respect for was an unforgettable experience. On my way out of the building after class each day, I would steal glances at the mysterious diamond behind that front desk. More times than I can count, I gathered bits of courage in hopes of approaching her and spilling my guts. More times than I can count, my courage scampered away.

Three months flew by pretty quickly, and I got up on the stage in the grand hall at Campion, gown and all, waved to my folks smiling approvingly in the crowd, and collected my diploma. It remains one of the proudest moments of my life. As a working clown magician, I always had to be on call. In addition to being primarily stationed at Zion Children’s Hospital, I would occasionally be asked to stand in for sick colleagues or if less busy, I would volunteer to tag along on work rounds. 

The day colors began to appear on the blank canvas of our lives was cool and crisp. The leaves on the trees had turned a beautiful array of golden, orange, and red. A gentle breeze blew through the air, rustling the leaves and sending them spiraling to the ground. The sky was a clear, deep blue, with only a few wispy clouds drifting lazily across it. As the mysterious diamond and I walked down the street, I could feel the crunch of the fallen leaves under my feet. The air had a sharp, fresh scent to it, and I could taste the hint of wood smoke in the breeze. The sun was low in the sky, casting a warm glow over everything. I could hear the distant sound of children playing and dogs barking, and the occasional car passing by. The day was almost as pretty as she. We had been assigned to perform at the birthday party of a wealthy benefactor’s daughter - before then I didn’t know the diamond was also a performer - whose daughter had a love for magic and had just turned six. The diamond and I had only spoken three times prior, all of which were professional hellos or goodbyes. The party was a success. We performed a couple of party tricks. I made a rabbit disappear and reappear much to the delight of the party guests, she shuffled and cut a deck of cards, then performed various feats with them like making a selected card rise to the top of the deck and magically changing its color. The party was a huge success. Riding the wave of excitement, after the party I bound together bits of courage once more and this time they stayed bound. I took her to a bar for a drink. We spent a good hour talking about our overbearing families and how much we loved being clown magicians. Our friendship blossomed like Sakura in spring. Six months later, I asked Jenny out. Much to my delight, she became my diamond. 

They say getting to know someone is like building a puzzle. You have to put the pieces together to see the full picture. I could see the full picture in all its glory. Jenny was my best friend. We came to understand each other in a way that was uniquely ours. Our days were filled with playful antics and magic tricks designed to woo and impress one another. Some of it was truly my best work; conjuring up bouquets of flowers or pulling out a seemingly endless stream of silk handkerchiefs, each one a different color. The elaborate illusions always made her smile. Her smile was like a garden in full bloom, bursting with color and life. It was a riot of joy and happiness that radiated outward, attracting others like bees to a flower. To impress me, she used her skills in sleight of hand to produce small gifts or tokens of affection, mostly a single red rose or a box of chocolates. As we spent more time together, we began incorporating our magic tricks into our everyday lives, turning mundane tasks like cooking dinner or going for a walk into opportunities for play and surprise. We experimented with new magic routines and gags, trying them out on one another and getting feedback before performing them for an audience. That was a time of joy and contentment when everything seemed to fall into place and the world felt full of possibility. Our playful and lighthearted approach to magic was a constant source of joy and connection that brought us closer together and helped us bond over our shared passion for the art of magic.

The day I proposed to my diamond was a beautiful tapestry of joy, hope, and love. It was a day filled with the warmth of the sun, the sound of laughter, and the embrace of loved ones. As you might have come to expect, I had an exquisite plan. It had been carefully thought out and meticulously crafted, with attention paid to even the smallest details. To begin, I invited her to a special performance at a local theater. As she took her seat, I greeted her with a bouquet of flowers and a warm smile. As the performance began, I took the stage and began to perform a series of impressive magic tricks. I pulled rabbits out of hats, made doves appear out of thin air, and even performed a death-defying escape from a locked box. As my heart raced with fear, I was calmed by the soothing balm of her stunned smile. As the audience watched in amazement, I stopped and turned to my diamond. I took a deep breath and dropped to one knee, pulling a small velvet box out of my pocket. 

“My diamond. My Jenny. I’ve been practicing magic for years, but you are the one true magic in my life," I said, choking back tears.

“The thought of spending a single day without you by my side is not a thought I want to entertain. Will you do me the honor of becoming my partner in magic and my wife?"

I opened the box to reveal the sparkling engagement ring. I saw her eyes light up with joy. She nodded happily, a flood of emotion streaming down her face. I slipped the ring onto her finger and stood up, sweeping her into a loving embrace as the audience erupted into applause. We shared our careers and would, pretty soon, share our lives with each other. At least that’s what I thought.

The day the house of cards collapsed was almost too peculiar, even for a clown magician, to be real. My Toyota Camry broke down a thousand times on my way to work; a lemon that should have been taken off the market years ago. For the first time, I received negative feedback about my performance. I was as speechless as a fish out of water. Nevertheless, it was my sworn duty to bring smiles through my acts and I listened intently as my superior went on about my ills. A co-worker fiddled with my computer and accidentally erased some important files. It was almost like I had angered the universe. Through it all though, I thought about my diamond. She had gotten sick the previous night and I insisted she took a day off work. Driving home, I couldn’t wait to see her and laugh about my awful day. She would be just as amused as I was over such an odd day. Two minutes away from my door, I remembered her request that I told her once I got off work. But with all that had taken place, it skipped my mind. I thought it didn’t matter though. She would be thrilled to see me just the same. 

Our front door was surprisingly locked so I opened it with my key. I counted my steps as I walked up the stairs. Why was that door locked? Probably out of safety, a house five blocks away had after all been vandalized a couple months ago. Still, a sense of uneasiness crept up my spine and a large pit opened in my stomach. When I pushed open the bedroom door, the walls around me dissolved in a mocking fashion. I would have hoped for thieving intruders. There she was. My diamond. My fiancée. Wrapped in the arms of another. Skin to skin. Hot flashes invaded my system. As my diamond and her lover intruder hustled to cover up their abomination with clothes, I stumbled out of the room in complete disarray. My legs became logs of wood and every step I took was heavier than the last. I made it out of that living nightmare, got in my rust bucket on wheels, and sped off.

*****

Here I am, dazed and confused, trying to pinpoint exactly when it all went to shit. What is this perfect storm of disaster that has brought chaos and turmoil? There’s a pounding in my head and heart. The concoction on my face continues to melt. The world, my world, has shifted beneath my feet. I feel nauseous. I’m starring in a freak show I didn’t sign up for as I’m unable to escape the horrors that have just unfolded before my eyes. I take off my engagement ring and set it on the dashboard. I pull the seat all the way back, lay down, and rest my head. I’ve cried so much, there are no tears left to cry. Just my heart with its large diamond-shaped hole.