While Damon, Lucy, Sanji, and Yosaku head to the Conomi Islands to meet up with their friends, one day passes. And Damon has a dream, remembering something that happened years ago and led to one of his deepest (and most ridiculous) fears...


A Memory in a Dream

Why Damon Hates Clowns!


It was a peaceful night. Everyone else was asleep. I could tell Lucy was dreaming about food because she kept muttering, "EH? Meat, come back..." Usopp was muttering something about Kaya, and Sanji was listing ways to cook different foods... WHILE HE WAS ASLEEP. I dunno what Yosaku was dreaming about, though, because he was the only one of them who wasn't sleep-talking.

If you're wondering why I'm with this weird group of people - - a rubbery pirate captain, a sniper who was also a wimp and a liar, a cook obsessed with women, and one half of a bounty hunting duo - - well, it's a long story, but right now we were heading for the Conomi Islands. See, earlier that day we had faced off with the Krieg Pirates and just before we did so, Nami, the navigator of the Straw Hats, had taken off, stealing the Going Merry in the process. Our other nakama, Zoro, Usopp, and Johnny, had gone ahead of us.

As I was thinking this, I thought I heard a faint scream of combined exasperation, annoyance, and fear. I raised an eyebrow as a flash of blue hair, a red nose, and a ridiculous pirate outfit that looked more like clown attire soared through the night sky not too far above us, illuminated by the reflected light of the moon and the normal light of the stars.

Wait, clown? I shuddered and tried to forget about the image.

I closed my eyes. It was late at night, about 10:30 if my iPod was right, and I was pooped from my hard battle with the demon Ug Lee earlier today. I frowned. My iPod was half way out of juice. I'd have to ask Aeso, my godly parent, if there was some way to recharge it...

I yawned and was out like a lightbulb.

No sooner was I asleep then I had a dream, and it wasn't just a dream. It was actually a memory, and immediately knew which one it was because it was the day I'd become afraid of clowns.

Hey, don't laugh! Clowns are freaky! I know it's a bit irrational, but that's just who I am, okay?

I was just six years old, and my mom was still alive. Seeing my mom, June Diamond Digger, alive was enough to make me feel nostalgic, even in a dream. You see, my mom had died two years ago, when I was 15, and immediately afterwards, I ran from our New York City apartment to live life as an orphaned street kid.

Anyway, as I was saying, it was my six birthday party, and I was sitting at the kitchen table in my old grandmother's house. Grandma Digger was a widow and was withering away herself. Both my mom and I knew she didn't have long to live, and so we had asked her if it was okay to have a small family party at her house, which was just across the state border in the outskirts of Bayonne, New Jersey. It was as old as she was, older in fact, and dated back to Pony Express times. It was filled with secret passageways and hidden rooms because it used to serve as one of the stations in the Underground Railroad, which for all you morons out there, wasn't actually underground, but was just a bunch of routes that slaves in the American South could take to escape to freedom in the North.

"Alright!" Past-Me cheered as I unwrapped a present in red-and-blue birthday wrapping paper to reveal the piece of technology inside. "A GameBoy Advance! Thanks, Gramma!"

She chuckled weakly. "Don't mention it, kiddo."

"By the way," Mom spoke up. "Your grandmother and I called in a special guest to entertain you, Damon."

But I wasn't paying any attention to her; I had just unwrapped another present. "WOW! The newest volume of Superman comics! Alright! ...Did you say something, Mom?"

"Yes, dear. We invited Uncle Bill to your party."

I blinked and tilted my head. "Uncle Bill? Who's that?"

She sighed. Back then I had been absolutely TERRIBLE with names, and it had really gotten on Mom's nerves for some reason. "Uncle Bill, sweetie," she told Past-Me. "You know Billy. The funny man who works at the circus as a clown?"

My eyes lit up. "Ah! Billy the Clown! YAY! ...He's my uncle?"

Grandma chuckled and sat back in her tan chair, the old fraying one with pale flower patterns.

"Yes, sweetie..." Mom muttered, rolling her eyes and smiling at me.

"HOWDY, DAMON!" a sudden, booming voice greeted me from the direction of the doorway. Six-year-old me jumped in surprise and nearly dropped my brand new GameBoy, which for some reason I was still holding. A smile spread across my face and I turned. There was my Uncle Bill, dressed up in comically round overalls, with a big old red nose and ridiculous, long pink hair. His eyes were sparkling with amusement and humor and his smile, wide and contagious, was smeared with too much red make-up. I giggled at the man's get up.

Hey, I was a kid! I bet you giggled as a kid too.

"Are you Billy?" I asked excitedly.

He wagged his head up and down in a far-too-enthusiastic nod. "Yes, sir! That man is me! Billy is my name, humor is my game!" He honked his red clown nose and I erupted into peals of giggles again. His eyes roamed down and noted the Superman comic in my hand. "Ah, you're a Superman fan, eh? But comics aren't any fun!" Before I could react, his hand had suddenly swiped the comic book out of my hand, tossed it out the conveniently open kitchen window, and replaced it with a balloon animal. Now, this may not seem like much at first glance, but there was a pool immediately outside the kitchen window.

Mom, Grandma, and I watched in suspended horror as the comic book spun out the window and fell into the pool with a resounding SPLASH!

That was the moment I both hated and feared clowns.


-TheRealEvanSG