Free Catch a Crooked Clown by Joan Lowery Nixon

1

    B RIAN PULLED HIS BIKE to a quick stop as he saw a crowd gathering up ahead. “What’s going on?” Sean yelled. He stopped his bike next to Brian’s and hopped off. “There’s one way to find out,” Brian said, “but we’ll have to make it fast. It’s got to be at least four o’clock, and we’re supposed to be home by five.” He leaned his bike into a nearby rack and ran down the sidewalk to join the crowd, which was opposite the open main doors of a small shopping mall. Sean was right behind him.
    Stumbling in his very large shoes, a clown in a wild green wig and a baggy costume pushed through the crowd. His painted grin and black crisscross eyes made him look as though he’d burst out laughing at any minute. Flip-flopping along, he handed out balloons and flyers.
    Brian reached for a flyer and read it. “Hey Sean,” he said, “the Star-Spangled Circus will have its grand-opening performance tomorrow evening. Want to go?”
    “Sure,” Sean said, but his attention was on the small monkey that rode on the clown’s left shoulder. The monkey wore a loose leather collar that was attached to a short leash, and the monkey kept jerking at the collar, as though he were unhappy about being tied up.
    “Oh-oh,” Sean said. “Bri, do you know what I think? That collar—”
    Suddenly, the monkey pulled the collar over his head, leaped from the clown’s shoulder, and dashed through the nearby open door to the mall.
    “That’s just what I thought he’d do,” Sean yelled.
    Some of the onlookers shrieked, and some of them laughed. Almost all of them ran with the stumbling, tripping clown after the monkey. Brian and Sean hurried after them.
    The nearest store was Hart’s Jewels. The monkey, with the clown right behind him, jumped from counter to counter, then out the entrance and into the gift shop next door.
    If I can just get ahead of him, Sean thought. The monkey leaped, and Sean grabbed for him, but missed.
    “Darn!” Sean said and tried again, but this time the monkey dove right over Sean’s head.
    From there the monkey raced into a sports-wear store. The clown and the yelling, laughing crowd gave chase.
    It was just a hop and a swing into the next store—a small drugstore. The monkey would have made it except for Sean, who saw where he’d be heading and waited for him at the door. The monkey leaped, and Sean caught him, holding him tightly.
    “There, there,” Sean murmured, as the monkey huddled against him, trembling. “You’re okay, little guy. Don’t be afraid.”
    Brian and the drugstore owner kept the crowd back until the clown caught up.
    “Your monkey’s collar is too loose.” Sean said to the clown. “He was able to pull it right over his head.”
    The clown didn’t speak. His real lips, inside the painted grin, looked tight and angry, and he glared at Sean. He fastened the collar on the monkey, snatched him out of Sean’s arms, and stumbled and tripped his way out of the mall and to the sidewalk.
    With the excitement over, the onlookers walked away. But Brian and Sean followed the clown. They watched him step into a dark brown sedan. They weren’t able to see the driver through the tinted windows, but Brian pulled out his private investigator’s notebook and pen and jotted down the license plate as the car drove off in the direction of the circus grounds.
    “Why do you want his license number?” Sean asked. “You know the clown’s with the circus.”
    “Private investigators never take anything for granted,” Brian told him.
    Sean shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe that clown isn’t with the circus. Circus clowns are supposed to be funny, but this one was a real grouch.” He thought a moment, then said, “It sounds weird, Bri, and don’t laugh. But I think that clown was mad at me for saying that the monkey’s collar was too loose. It was kinda like he knew it was loose on purpose, but he didn’t want anyone else to know.”
    Brian didn’t laugh. He said,