-o-o-o-o-o-o

Something was wrong, very, very, wrong. Henry had seen the stack of money that Kellogg had taken from one, 'Mister Gray' that day. It was more money than he made in six months. Now the carnival that had teetered on bankruptcy for more months than not, seemed to be growing. What Gray had to do with the sudden good fortune wasn't clear, but something had changed.

The clown seldom actually performed on stage which was odd enough. You were more likely to see him in his fancy dress costume on the edge of the crowd. Sometimes, he would hand out balloons, other times, he would hover like a specter. No one approached him. Children especially gave him a wide berth.

His performances were something else entirely. At best, his stage show left you feeling uncomfortable, at worst, downright creeped out. But you couldn't turn away. You couldn't not watch. There was something unearthly about it. That's the only way he knew to describe it. And it certainly hadn't scared the crowds away. They were only growing.

You couldn't deny the strange new atmosphere that permeated the carnival now. The lights burned hotter, the colors shown brighter. There was an edge of hysteria to it, like the whole place had been drugged. Fights seemed to break out on a regular basis and he'd caught more than one couple in a compromising position.

He'd fallen off the wagon for the first time in eight years. It was the only thing that helped ease the tension. There was something addictive about it, an anticipation, a… desire. It was almost like arousal, a boner that you can't get rid of, you want release, but the anticipation is achingly sublime. And it all started after "Pennywise" the clown joined their troupe. That's when the money started rolling in… and that's when the atmosphere changed.

Henry looked out across the crowd. It was a wall to wall Saturday night. You'd think there would be smiles and laughter all around, but there wasn't. There was a pall over the crowd. Some, looked like they didn't even know why they were there. They just wandered aimlessly from attraction to attraction never playing the games, never boarding the rides. Most appeared enthralled by the lights and sounds. They stared at the garish rides and cheap prizes like they were marvels previously unseen, like they walked into another world. It was all too much, Henry thought, but what did it all mean?

He looked back at the painted trailer with the faded paint proclaiming Pennywise the Dancing Clown. The image of the smiling clown bore little resemblance to the man that he'd seen. Seen but never spoken to, in fact, Kellogg and his toady, Monty, were the only two that ever seemed to have any interaction with Mister Gray at all. The tall man only came out of the trailer during showtime, where you could most often find him hovering at the edges of the crowd just watching, like he was waiting for something… or someone.

The other carnies also seemed to steer clear of the clown. He couldn't say he blamed them either. There was something off about him. The way he looked, the way he moved, the whole package screamed wrong. But money talked and bullshit walked. The carnival was prospering for the first time in years. So, everyone seemed to turn a blind eye. Now, it was almost like they didn't see it. Didn't see that something was skewed, that reality had shifted and warped into a miasma of something dark and foreboding.

Henry was scared.

o-o-o-o-o-o

He found himself looking for Little Pauly, a giant of a man that worked the rigging. You wouldn't know it by looking at him, but he was a book-learned man out of Boston.

One day, after the tents had gone up, Little Pauly was sitting on an orange crate in the shade of one of the trailers, his face red and shining with sweat. No time like the present, Henry thought. Strolling over, he handed him a beer fresh from the cooler and sat down next to him. The gravel from the hardpacked dirt dug into his thighs and Henry shifted to get comfortable.

"Damn hot out here already," Henry commented. "Gonna be a blistering summer according to Mabel." Mabel was their resident fortune teller. Like all her predictions, she hit the mark fifty percent of the time. It was a running joke.

Pauly threw his head back and downed half the bottle, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down like a buoy on water. "I reckon so, he answered and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He mopped his face.

"I heard Kellogg is gonna buy a new rig. Maybe even a ride."

Pauly closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "That so? I hadn't heard."

"No? The chatter's all over the midway. I thought everyone was deciding what to do with their new windfalls. You got a decent bump, didn't you?"

Pauly nodded. "Guess our luck has turned," he murmured.

"That's one way of looking at it."

Pauly's eyes cut sideways, "You got another?"

"Maybe," Henry answered noncommittally and gave him a little shrug. "You don't seem quite as enthusiastic as the rest."

The big man turned to face him. "I'm appreciative of all God's gifts. Especially, good fortune. I'm just not so sure that God had anything to do with it." Pauly's eyes cut over his shoulder and a strange expression clouded his face. Henry didn't need to turn around. He knew what the rigger was looking at; the latest addition to the midway, the ornately painted trailer, heralding Pennywise the Dancing Clown.

So he wasn't the only one with concerns about their new act. Henry felt better about his decision to say something to Pauly. He needed an ally. There were too many questions about Kellogg's involvement. Questions that didn't seem to have any answers forthcoming. He even started to think he might be going a little crazy but looking at Pauly's expression told him that whatever was going on, it wasn't his imagination.

"You, uh, met our newest act? Mister Gray?"

Pauly shook his head.

Henry idly rubbed at the back of his neck where sweat was making its way down his collar to spread out along his shirt. "Kind of odd, don't ya think? Been here weeks now and hasn't taken one single meal with the crew. Hell, doesn't even come out of his trailer until the show starts up. Of course, I probably wouldn't know him if I saw him… being that he's always wearing clown face."

Pauly shrugged, "I saw him late one night." His voice dropped to a hush, "He was perched on top of his trailer like some kind of gargoyle."

Now that was interesting… and more than a little odd. "What was he doing up there?" The big man stared straight ahead like he didn't want to face me with what he was about to say.

He tipped the beer up to his lips and drained the bottle in one go. "He wasn't doing anything… not really. He was just… watching."

"Watching what?"

Pauly took a deep breath. "The people. He was watching the people. He didn't move for the longest time. He just sat there, still as death, that white face in the dark. Then he kinda turned towards me, like he knew I'd been watching him… and he smiled at me. He smiled at me with those red painted lips and I swear I saw…"

"What did you see?" he prompted. I need to know I'm not the only one who sees it, he thought. Who sees there's something wrong.

Pauly shook his head, "Nothing. It was nothing. Just a trick of the light. But… but I'll never forget his expression. Before he turned and smiled, with… those teeth. His expression…"

Henry frowned, "What about it?"

Pauly was panting slightly.

"What expression, Pauly? What did you see?"

"Hunger," he whispered.