Touch of the Clown by Glen Huser Page A

whole world seems to be made out of grass and sky. The little boy plays a harmonica. His sister has her sketchbook open. The father and Sarah joke shyly with one another. The dog runs back and forth over the picnic lunch and everyone yells at him and laughs.
    This must be their perfect time. Hang onto it, Cosmo would say. Make a life preserver.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    On Wednesday when we get home, Daddy is watching for us at the door.
    â€œI don’t know why you kids can’t stick closer to home,” he says, eyeing the rolled-up piece of paper Livvy has squashed flat on the way home from the art gallery. “You’re always wanting to go somewhere. And guess what–we are.” He is trying to keep back a smile. I can see the edges of his lips quivering.
    â€œWhere? Where?” Livvy has forgotten how tired she is from the walk home and is dancing from foot to foot.
    â€œGuess,” Daddy says.
    â€œDisneyland!” Livvy shrieks. “I want to go to Disneyland and see Pocahontas.”
    â€œWell, it’s not quite Disneyland.” Daddy laughs a thin laugh. “Mayfair Park. What do you think of that? Myron Perth is home for a couple of days and wants to take Mrs. Perth on a little outing tomorrow and said for us all to come along.”
    I feel like someone has opened a trap door and I am falling, without warning, everything gone from under my feet.
    â€œHow long will we be gone?” My voice comes out as a little squeak. “I mean, when will we be going? And coming back?”
    Daddy looks at me sideways. “I don’t know. Around noon, I guess. We can have lunch down there. Why are you interested in time all of a sudden?”
    â€œOh, no reason. Just wondered.”
    â€œWell, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” Daddy backs toward the sofa. “It’s summer holidays. If we’re late it won’t be like you have to get up and go to school the next day.”
    â€œGoodee.” Livvy is jumping like a kangaroo around the living room. “We get to go to the park,” she chants, tossing her flattened paper into a corner, just missing Grandma’s ashtray. “Does it have a playground with a curly slide?”
    â€œIt has a gigantic playground.” Daddy sinks back into his sofa. He is looking at me, waiting for me to be happy and excited. “I said we’d bring the hot dogs. You don’t mind nipping down to the store, do you, hon? We got enough for weenies and buns but not a cab. MaybeLivvy’ll go along and keep you company.’
    â€œMe tired. Don’t want to walk,” Livvy whines.
    â€œIts okay. I’ll go,” I say. “I don’t mind.”
    â€œGet me some cigarettes, Barbara.” Grandma’s walker squeaks through the kitchen doorway. “I’m getting low.”
    The feeling is still in my stomach as I head for Cosmo’s apartment. With everything inside me fallen, my feet move heavily up the steps to the landing. When I knock, there is no answer. As I begin to go back down the stairs, though, I see him coming down the street, moving lazily along on Mehitabel, singing as he goes. As he reaches the gate, he finishes the song–a little whispery song about an octopus’s garden in the sea.
    â€œBarbara.” His eyes widen with surprise. “Didn’t expect to find you on my doorstep. Something the matter?”
    â€œTomorrow…” I start to tell him and then my voice stops and won’t go on.
    â€œHey, catch your breath.” He gestures toward the bench by the patio table. “Close your eyes and relax a minute.”
    I close my eyes and spots dance around in thesudden black. The air in my chest seems to be beating its way upward and I shudder.
    â€œOkay?” I feel Cosmo’s long fingers on my arm.
    â€œTomorrow’s ruined. I can’t come tomorrow.”
    â€œHey.” Cosmo’s fingers slip down into my hand. “It’s okay.