Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 01 - Death Is Clowning Around (8 page)

“I said I didn’t like guns. Not that I didn’t know how to shoot.” I ejected the clip,
made
sure there wasn’t a bullet in the chamber
,
and handed them to Tom.

“
That’s great. Who taught you to shoot?”

“My dad taught me and my sister to shoot several different kinds of handguns, including a rifle and shotgun.” My parent’s might have been staunch environmentalist but they were also realists.

“Was your dad a hunter?” Tom asked, as we walked back toward
the front of his house
.

“No
,
but my dad used to say that the world is full of many different kinds of people – some good and some bad. He wanted me and my sister to be able to protect ourselves, so he taught us to shoot and some self defense moves.”

“I feel better already ab
out you going to clown camp. W
hen you
are
at the camp, load the gun
and keep it loaded.
And if you can, keep it with you at all time.”

I put my hands on my hips and smiled.
“Where in my clown suit do you suggest that I put it?”

He didn’t take my joke very well. He cleared his throat.
“Liza, be serious.
If you can find a way, keep it with you, okay?”

“Fine.”

Tom drove Shelby and me to my car at the Inn, parked, then he picked up my bag and put it in the car for me.
I saw Sarah
in the window with her mouth open.
Was it seeing Tom with me or seeing Tom’s face?
Either way, I’d given her something to talk about for the day.
I leaned over and kissed him goodbye on the mouth.

“Was that for me or Sarah?” he teased.

“Both.”
Now I’d given her something to gossip about for a week.

I waved goodbye to Tom, and Shelby and I were on the road home.
It was the middle of the week and day, so traffic was light.
A couple of times I thought I saw a white van following us.
I laughed out loud.
I was never paranoid before of clowns.

I thought about Jessica and wondered if she was alive or not.
Thinking about her made me think about my best friend, Sandy.
I still felt like I had
never done enough to help find her.
I hated to fail.
A tear ran down my cheek.
Damn it!
The therapist my parents sent me to after Sandy was kidnapped and killed told me I needed to find closure so that I could move on.
Maybe looking for Jessica would give me what I needed.

Two hours later we pulled into my driveway.
It was nice to be home.
When I let Shelby in she went directly to her water and food feeders.
I went straight for the refrigerator.
Nothing there.
I found a frozen pizza in the freezer.
That would do.
I popped it in the oven and opened up my laptop.
I wanted to see what the ex-clown had to say about Uptown Clowns.

Chapter 10

I ate my pizza and opened my email.
Ignoring all the junk, I opened Justin’s.
Then I downloaded what he’d attached.
It was an article in the
San Francisco Chronicle
titled “Ex-Clown Exposes All!”
The story featured a man named Jack Armstrong (not his real name according to the article).
He’d been a member of the Uptown Clowns for several years.
He joined after going to one of their camps.
The article went on to say that the clowns were heavily involved in pornography, both film and pictures.

There were several layers within the organization.
Different colored badges were used for each level.
Level 1 was for the “real’ clowns. It was nice to know that everyone involved wasn’t a sleaze ball.
In order to climb up a level, one had to participate in their “clownship” program and meditation rituals.
Jack called it “mind programming.
It’s a lot of chanting, rhythmic music, and drugs.
They get you so messed up that you’ll do anything to keep being part of that level.
The higher the level, the better the drugs and the more power the individual has in the organization.”

When the writer asked about women and children, Jack laughed.
“Most of them weren’t a part of the Uptown Clowns.
The women
were there for the clowns to use and control.
Only a few women actually held high positions within the organization.
The kids were just a smoke screen to make the place respectable.
”

When Jack tried to get out, they fabricated several crimes.
All the evidence implicated Jack and he couldn’t prove otherwise.
He lost his family, his home, and his job because of the criminal investigations.
Now he’s in hiding from the police and the clowns.
The last statement of the article was: “Don’t trust a clown, unless you’ve seen under his makeup.”

Nice parting shot.
I was going to have to be very careful.
I wasn’t into drugs, chanting or rhythmic music.
Besides most women weren’t allowed to scale the levels, so why would they bother to have me participate in any of that.
Like the kids,
I’d probably just be window dressing for the camp, but maybe I could find out a few things.
If I could have a convers
ation with Carl, Jessie’s uncle,
it could
help immensely.

I sat down on the couch and called Justin on my cell phone.
He answered immediately.

“Hey, Teach.
What did you think of the article?”

I drew in a deep breath.
“Scary stuff.”

“Oh yeah.
Did you pass the information on to your friend?”

“Yes. Could you do me another favor?”

“Sure.”

“I’m going out of town for a few days and I can’t take Shelby.
Can you come over, pick up the mail and stay with her for a little while?”

“Of course.
I love that yappy dog.”

“Thanks Justin.”

“Where are you going?”

I thought quickly –
I
was always good at that.
“I’m going to a teacher’s conference for four days.
Some new reading program.
It’s been a great success in New York and so they’re going to try it here.”

“Do you think it’s any better than the way you teach already?”

“If I learn one thing, it’ll be worth it.”

“Always the optimist?”

“What other way is there?”

“Goodnight, Teach.”

“Goodnight, Justin.
And thanks.”
I hung up the phone.
It was still early.
I wondered what Jordan was doing right now.
I dialed her number and got her voice mail, then left a message.
“It’s just me, Jordan.
We haven’t talked in a while.
I hope everything’s going well for you.
I met a guy.
Give me a call and I’ll tell you all about him.
I think you’d like him.
He’s in law enforcement.
I’m going out of town for a few days.
I’ll give you a call when I get back.”

It’s strange that I decided to call my sister.
I hadn’t talked to her in over a month.
We aren’t that close.
In fact, we disagree about almost everything.
T
ouc
hing base with family members wasn’t
a good sign.
I hoped it wasn’t an omen of the next few days at clown camp.

My phone rang and I picked it up.
Hearing Tom’s voice made me smile.

“Did you get home safe?”

“Of course.”

“Glad to be home?”

I glanced around and sighed.
“Always.”

“Miss me.”

“As a matter a fact, I do.”
I sat back and put my feet up on the coffee table.
“It’s weird.”

“I miss you too.
Anyway I could talk you out of going to that clown camp?”

“Nope.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.
Check-in time is noon.”

“Call me after you check in.”

“If I can, I will.
If not, I’ll call you in the afternoon or evening.”

“What happened to my four calls a day?”

“You’re going to be lucky to get two.”

“But remember if I don’t get any, I’m coming in with the cavalry,” he said solemnly.

It was time to change the subject.
“How’s your face?”

“It still hurts, but it’s getting better.

“That’s good.
I’m sorry I never got to meet Duke.
Did you get him back from the vet?”

“Tomorrow.
He’ll be out of commission for a couple of weeks.”

“No police work for him, huh?”

“No.
He’ll just hangout at the house and make sure the contractors are doing their job.”

“Maybe your house will get done quicker.”

“It will because I’m moving home.
If they see me everyday maybe they’ll hurry and get out.”

“But then they won’t leave me any chips to eat when I’m hungry.”

“I’ll fill an entire cupboard with chips for you, okay?”

“It’s a deal.”

Shelby started barking at the door.
“Shelby!”
She kept on barking.
“Tom, I’m going to go.
Shelby’s barking and she won’t stop.
I’ve got to see what she’s having a fit about.”

“I can hear her.
Pet her for me and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”
I hung up the phone and opened the front door.
Nothing was out there.
“Shelby, what are you barking at?”

Shelby ran out to the front of the driveway and barked.
I walked out and looked up and down the street.
A white van pull around the corner and I shook my head.
I
was
getting paranoid.

That afternoon I answered the kid’s journal entries.
I’d asked them what their three wishes would be if they found a Leprechaun.
Some of their answers were really cute.
A lot wanted to fly.
Not an unusual request for a five year old.
Some wanted a bigger house, more toys, a pool, or a dog.
Two wanted baby brothers.
Knowing their mom’s they weren’t going to be getting that anytime soon.

My little girl from Romania’s entry was very sweet.
She wanted her grandmother to come and visit.
She hadn’t seen her for a long time and she missed her very much.
She drew a picture o
f herself and her grandmother -
multi-colored
flowers, a bright red sun and blue birds flying in the sky surrounded them.
It was a cool picture.

But my favorite was from Neil.
He wanted to own Disneyland.
I love that place.
Maybe he’d let me get in free if he really found that Leprechaun.

Around three o’clock I heard the familiar toot of Justin’s horn.
I opened the door and Shelby ran out to meet him.
She loves chasing his wheelchair and biting the tires.
Justin started playing soccer when he was four years old.
By the time he was thirteen, he was on a select team.
He was the quickest and most talented kid I’d ever seen.
Tragically, during one game, another child kicked the ball and it struck Justin right in his spine.
He went down and he never walked again.
But he’s always had a great attitude about it.
I’m sure he has days when he’s depressed about his inability to walk, but I’ve never seen it.
Now he was a paraplegic, riding in a wheelchair with red racing stripes.

As Justin scooted up and down my driveway, laughing and waving his arms, Shelby barked and chased him.
Within a few minutes, Shelby was hoarse from barking.
I whistled and she
ran
back to me.
Next to my door I keep a piece of triangular wood that goes under the one step to my house.
Justin maneuvered his wheelchair up my makeshift ramp and into my house.

“Hey Teach.”

“My dog sounds like a frog again.”

He snickered.
“Yeah, I know.
Did you send that stuff to your friend?”

“Yes.
It was pretty bizarre stuff.
All that mind programming.”

“Yeah.
Who would have thought that clowns were bad?”

“I had a friend once who was scared by a clown at an amusement park when he was five.
He still hates clowns.
Maybe he has the right idea.”

“One bad group doesn’t spoil the whole profession.”

I patted him on the head.
“So wise for one so young.”

He laughed.
“Last year we had a
n
ex-cult member come into our psychology class and talk about her mind programming experience.
It was cool.”

“What did she say?”
It might come in handy at the camp.

I sat down on the couch and Justin wheeled over to me.
“She said there were a lot of drugs involved to lower your mind’s ability to resist their suggestions.
They would keep repeating the same thing over and over again.
She’d repeat it and pretty soon she believed it as if she’d thought of it herself.”

“How did she get away from the cult?”

“Her parents had her kidnapped back.
It took her two years to get deprogrammed.”

I drew in a breath and let it out slowly.
“Wow, two years?”

“That was because for the first year she fought them at every turn.
She was a prisoner in her own home.
Once she accepted the fact that she’d never see the cult members again, she relaxed and the deprogramming started to work.”

“Did they have to use drugs in the deprogramming?”

“No.”

“Then how did they do it?”

“She said the trick was to say something in your mind that went against the cult every time she heard or said what they’d stuck in her head.”

“Like when they said, ‘We are the way,’ she would say ‘No way’?”

“Exactly.
She said it soon became a game with her and she was concentrating more on her response than the actual words she heard in her head.
Pretty soon their words were gone and she was left with her own thoughts.”

“Good for her.”

“Yeah, now she goes to all the schools and teaches kids about cults and what to look out for.
She said if the organization wants to replace themselves as your family.
That’s the key to a cult.”

“It’s amazing that they get you to totally forget about your own family.”

“Yeah, she said it was like they wiped them out in your memory.”

“How can they do that?”

“They’d talk about her mom and then just erase her mom and put in themselves.
They did it for everyone that was important to her.
For example, for you, they’d erase
the memories of your mom and dad, and then your
sister.
And then any of your friends who were important to you.”

“How do they get everyone?”

“That’s the tricky part, but also the way you can get your memory back.”

I sat forward in my seat.
“What do you mean?”